COLLEGE  LIBRARY 


THE   PRINCIPLES  OF 
SOCIOLOGY 


BY 

HERBERT    SPENCER 


VOL.   I  —  I 


NEW    YORK 
D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 

1897 


Authorized  Edition, 


/y  A/1 
/ 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  BARBARA  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 


I&I7  ,  ^. 

,/ 

/  PREFACE  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION. 


IN  this  third  edition  of  the  Principles  of  Sociology,  Vol.  I, 
several  improvements  of  importance  have  been  made.  The 
text  has  been  revised;  references  to  the  works  quoted  and 
cited  have  been  supplied;  the  appendices  have  been  en- 
larged; and  the  work  has  now  an  index. 

Each  chapter  has  been  carefully  gone  through  for  the 
purpose  of  removing  defects  of  expression  and  with  a  view 
to  condensation.  By  erasing  superfluous  words  and  phrases, 
I  have  reduced  the  text  to  the  extent  of  forty  pages,  not- 
withstanding the  incorporation  here  and  there  of  a  further 
illustration.  This  abridgment,  however,  has  not  diminished 
the  bulk  of  the  volume;  since  the  additions  above  named 
occupy  much  more  space  than  has  been  gained. 

In  the  preface  to  the  first  edition,  I  explained  how  it 
happened  that  the  reader  was  provided  with  no  adequate 
means  of  verifying  any  of  the  multitudinous  statements 
quoted;  and  with  the  explanation  I  joined  the  expression 
of  a  hope  that  I  might  eventually  remove  the  defect.  By 
great  labour  the  defect  has  now  been  removed — almost 
though  not  absolutely.  Some  years  ago  I  engaged  a  gentle- 
man who  had  been  with  me  as  secretary,  Mr.  P.  R.  Smith, 
since  deceased,  to  furnish  references;  and  with  the  aid  of 
the  Descriptive  Sociology  where  this  availed,  and  where  it 
did  not  by  going  to  the  works  of  the  authors  quoted,  he  suc- 
ceeded in  finding  the  great  majority  of  the  passages.  Still, 
however,  there  remained  numerous  gaps.  Two  years  since 
I  arranged  with  a  skilled  bibliographer,  Mr.  Tedder,  the 
librarian  of  the  Athenaeum  Club,  to  go  through  afresh  all 


vi  PREFACE  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION. 

the  quotations,  and  to  supply  the  missing  references  while 
checking  the  references  Mr.  Smith  had  given.  By  an  un- 
wearied labour  which  surprised  me,  Mr.  Tedder  discovered 
the  greater  part  of  the  passages  to  which  references  had  not 
been  supplied.  The  number  of  those  which  continued  un- 
discovered was  reduced  by  a  third  search,  aided  by  clues  con- 
tained in  the  original  MS.,  and  by  information  I  was  able 
to  give.  There  now  remain  less  than  2  per  cent,  of  unrefer- 
enced statements. 

The  supplying  of  references  was  not,  however,  the  sole 
purpose  to  be  achieved.  Removal  of  inaccuracies  was  a 
further  purpose.  The  Descriptive  Sociology  from  which 
numerous  quotations  were  made,  had  passed  through  stages 
each  of  which  gave  occasion  for  errors.  In  the  extracts  as 
copied  by  the  compilers,  mistakes,  literal  and  verbal,  were 
certain  to  be  not  uncommon.  Proper  names  of  persons, 
peoples,  and  places,  not  written  with  due  care,  were  likely 
to  be  in  many  cases  mis-spelled  by  the  printers.  Thus,  be- 
lieving that  there  were  many  defects  which,  though  not 
diminishing  the  values  of  the  extracts  as  pieces  of  evidence, 
rendered  them  inexact,  I  desired  that  while  the  references 
to  them  were  furnished,  comparisons  of  them  with  the  orig- 
inals should  be  made.  This  task  has  been  executed  by  Mr. 
Tedder  with  scrupulous  care;  so  that  his  corrections  have 
extended  even  to  additions  and  omissions  of  commas.  Con- 
cerning the  results  of  his  examination,  he  has  written  me  the 
following  letter: — 

July,  1885. 
DEAR  MR.  SPENCER, 

In  the  second  edition  (1877)  of  the  Principles  of  Soci- 
ology, Yol.  I,  placed  in  my  hands,  there  were  2,192  refer- 
ences to  the  379  works  quoted.  In  the  new  edition  there 
are  about  2,500  references  to  455  works.  All  of  these  ref- 
erences, with  the  exception  of  about  45,  have  been  com- 
pared with  the  originals. 

In  the  course  of  verification  I  have  corrected  numerous 
trifling  errors.  They  were  chiefly  literal,  and  included 


PREFACE  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION.  vii 

paraphrases  made  by  the  compilers  of  the  Descriptive  Soci- 
ology which  had  been  wrongly  inserted  within  quotation 
marks.  There  was  a  small  proportion  of  verbal  errors, 
among  which  were  instances  of  facts  quoted  with  respect  to 
particular  tribes  which  the  original  authority  had  asserted 
generally  of  the  whole  cluster  of  tribes — facts,  therefore, 
more  widely  true  than  you  had  alleged. 

The  only  instances  I  can  recall  of  changes  affecting  the 
value  of  the  statements  as  evidence  were  (1)  in  a  passage 
from  the  Jliad,  originally  taken  from  an  inferior  transla- 
tion ;  (2)  the  deletion  of  the  reference  (on  p.  298  of  second 
edition)  as  to  an  avoidance  by  the  Hindus  of  uttering  the 
sacred  name  Om. 

Among  the  455  works  quoted  there  are  only  six  which 
are  of  questionable  authority  ;  but  the  citations  from  these 
are  but  few  in  number,  and  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  the 
accuracy  of  the  information  for  which  they  are  specially 
responsible.  I  am, 

Faithfully  yours, 

HENRY  R.  TEDDER. 

The  statement  above  named  as  one  withdrawn,  was  com- 
mented on  by  Prof.  Max  Miiller  m  his  Hibbert  Lectures; 
in  which  he  also  alleged  that  I  had  erred  in  asserting  that  the 
Egyptians  abstained  from  using  the  sacred  name  Osiris. 
This  second  alleged  error  I  have  dealt  with  in  a  note  on  page 
274,  where  I  think  it  is  made  manifest  that  Prof.  Max 
Miiller  would  have  done  well  to  examine  the  evidence  more 
carefully  before  committing  himself. 

The  mention  of  Prof.  Max  Miiller  reminds  me  of  an- 
other matter  concerning  which  a  few  words  are  called  for. 
In  an  article  on  this  volume  in  its  first  edition,  published 
in  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette  for  February  21st,  1877,  it  was 
said  that  the  doctrine  propounded  in  Part  I,  in  opposition 
to  that  of  the  comparative  mythologists,  "  will  shortly  be 
taken  up,  as  we  understand,  by  persons  specially  competent 
in  that  department."  When  there  were  at  length,  in  1878, 
announced  Prof.  Max  Miiller's  Lectures  on  the  Origin  and 
Growth  of  Religion,  etc.,  etc.,  I  concluded  that  my  curiosity 


viii  PREFACE  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION. 

to  see  a  reply  would  at  last  be  gratified.  But  on  turning  over 
the  published  report  of  his  lectures,  I  discovered  no  attempt 
to  deal  with  the  hypothesis  that  religion  is  evolved  from 
the  ghost-theory :  the  sole  reference  to  it  being,  as  Mr.  An- 
drew Lang  remarks,  some  thirteen  lines  describing  "  psy- 
cholatry  "  as  exhibited  in  Africa.  The  work  proved  to  be 
a  superfluous  polemic  against  the  hypothesis  that  fetishism 
is  the  primitive  form  of  religion — superfluous,  I  say,  because 
this  hypothesis  had  been,  I  think,  effectually  disposed  of 
by  me  in  the  first  edition  of  this  volume.  Why  Prof.  Max 
Miiller  should  have  expended  so  much  labour  in  disproving 
a  doctrine  already  disproved,  is  not  clear.  Still  less  clear  is 
it  why,  having  before  him  the  volume,  and  adversely  criticiz- 
ing certain  statements  in  it  referred  to  above,  he  entirely 
ignored  the  chapter  in  which  was  already  done  that  which 
his  lectures  proposed  to  do. 

"What  was  the  indirect  purpose  of  his  lectures  I  do  not 
understand.  He  could  not  himself  have  supposed  that  a 
refutation  of  the  fetish-theory  was  a  refutation  of  the  theory 
now  standing  opposed  to  his  own ;  though  it  is  not  improb- 
able that  many  of  his  hearers  and  readers,  supposed  that  it 
was. 

Concerning  the  new  matter,  little  needs  to  be  said.  To 
Appendix  A,  entitled  "  Further  Illustrations  of  Primitive 
Thought,"  the  additions  are  such  as  practically  to  constitute 
it  a  second  demonstration  of  the  thesis  demonstrated  in 
Part  I.  To  Appendix  B,  on  "  The  Mythological  Theory," 
a  section  has  been  prefixed.  And  Appendix  C,  on  "  The 
Linguistic  Method  of  the  Mythologists,"  is  new. 

Bayswater,  July,  1885. 


PREFACE  TO  VOL.  I. 


FOE  the  Science  of  Society,  the  name  "  Sociology  "  was  in- 
troduced by  M.  Comte.  Partly  because  it  was  in  possession 
of  the  field,  and  partly  because  no  other  name  sufficiently 
comprehensive  existed,  I  adopted  it.  Though  repeatedly 
blamed  by  those  who  condemn  the  word  as  "  a  barbarism," 
I  do  not  regret  having  done  so.  To  use,  as  some  have  sug- 
gested, the  word  "  Politics,"  too  narrow  in  its  meaning  as 
well  as  misleading  in  its  connotations,  would  be  deliberately 
to  create  confusion  for  the  sake  of  avoiding  a  defect  of  no 
practical  moment.  The  heterogeneity  of  our  speech  is  al- 
ready so  great  that  nearly  every  thought  is  expressed  in 
words  taken  from  two  or  three  languages.  Already,  too,  it 
has  many  words  formed  in  irregular  ways  from  heterogene- 
ous roots.  Seeing  this,  I  accept  without  much  reluctance 
another  such  word :  believing  that  the  convenience  and  sug- 
gestiveness  of  our  symbols  are  of  more  importance  than  the 
legitimacy  of  their  derivation. 

Probably  some  surprise  will  be  felt  that,  containing  as 
this  work  does  multitudinous  quotations  from  numerous 
authors,  there  are  no  references  at  the  bottoms  of  pages. 
Some  words  of  explanation  seem  needful.  If  foot-notes  are 
referred  to,  the  thread  of  the  argument  is  completely  broken ; 
and  even*  if  they  are  not  referred  to,  attention  is  disturbed 
by  the  consciousness  that  they  are  there  to  be  looked  at. 
Hence  a  loss  of  effect  and  a  loss  of  time.  As  I  intended  to 
use  as  data  for  the  conclusions  set  forth  in  this  work,  the 
compiled  and  classified  facts  forming  the  Descriptive  Soci- 
ology, it  occurred  to  me  that  since  the  arrangement  of  those 


X  PREFACE  TO  VOL.  I. 

facts  is  such  that  the  author's  name  and  the  race  referred  to 
being  given,  the  extract  may  in  each  case  be  found,  and  with 
it  the  reference,  it  was  needless  to  waste  space  and  hinder 
thought  with  these  distracting  foot-notes.  I  therefore  de- 
cided to  omit  them.  In  so  far  as  evidence  furnished  by  the 
uncivilized  races  is  concerned  (which  forms  the  greater  part 
of  the  evidence  contained  in  this  volume),  there  exists  this 
means  of  verification  in  nearly  all  cases.  I  found,  however, 
that  many  facts  from  other  sources  had  to  be  sought  out  and 
incorporated;  arid  not  liking  to  change  the  system  I  had 
commenced  with,  I  left  them  in  an  unverifiable  state.  I 
recognize  the  defect,  and  hope  hereafter  to  remedy  it.  In 
succeeding  volumes  I  propose  to  adopt  a  method  of  reference 
which  will  give  the  reader  the  opportunity  of  consulting 
the  authorities  cited,  while  his  attention  to  them  will  not  be 
solicited. 

The  instalments  of  which  this  volume  consists  were 
issued  to  the  subscribers  at  the  following  dates: — No.  35 
(pp.  1—80)  in  June,  1874;  No.  36  (pp.  81—160)  in  No- 
vember, 1874;  No.  37  (pp.  161 — 240)  in  February,  1875; 
No.  38  (pp.  241—320)  in  May,  1875;  No.  39  (pp.  321- 
400)  in  September,  1875;  No.  40  (pp.  401—462,  with 
Appendices  A  &  B)  in  December,  1875;  No.  41  (pp.  465 — 
544)  in  April,  1876;  No.  42  (pp.  545—624)  in  July,  1876; 
and  No.  43  (pp.  625 — 704)  in  December,  1876;  an  extra 
No.  (44)  issued  in  June,  1877,  completing  the  volume. 

With  this  No.  44,  the  issue  of  the  System  of  Synthetic 
Philosophy  to  subscribers,  ceases:  the  intention  being  to 
publish  the  remainder  of  it  in  volumes  only.  The  next  vol- 
ume will,  I  hope,  be  completed  in  1880. 

London,  December,  1876. 


CONTENTS. 


PAET  I.— THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

CHAP.  PAGE 

I.     SUPER   ORGANIC    EVOLUTION         ....  3 

II.     THE    FACTORS   OF   SOCIAL   PHENOMENA           .            .  8 

in.     ORIGINAL    EXTERNAL   FACTORS    .  .  .  .16 

IV.     ORIGINAL    INTERNAL    FACTORS     ....  38 

V.     THE   PRIMITIVE    MAN PHYSICAL          ...  4:1 

VI.     THE    PRIMITIVE   MAN EMOTIONAL       ...  54: 

VH.     THE   PRIMITIVE   MAN INTELLECTUAL            .            .  75 

VIH.     PRIMITIVE    IDEAS        ......  94 

IX.     THE    IDEA   OF   THE    ANIMATE   AND    INANIMATE      .  125 
X.     THE    IDEAS   OF    SLEEP   AND   DREAMS     .            .            .134: 
XI.     THE  IDEAS  OF  SWOON,  APOPLEXY,  CATALEPSY,  EC- 
STASY, AND   OTHER    FORMS    OF  INSENSIBILITY    .  145 
XII.     THE   IDEAS   OF   DEATH   AND   RESURRECTION             .  153 

XIII.  THE    IDEAS   OF    SOULS,    GHOSTS,    SPIRITS,  DEMONS, 

ETC 171 

XIV.  THE   IDEAS    OF   ANOTHER   LIFE    ....  184: 
XV.     THE    IDEAS   OF   ANOTHER   WORLD           .            .            .  201 

XVI.     THE   IDEAS    OF    SUPERNATURAL   AGENTS        .            .218 
XVII.     SUPERNATURAL    AGENTS    AS    CAUSING    EPILEPSY 
AND    CONVULSIVE   ACTIONS,  DELIRIUM  AND    IN- 
SANITY,  DISEASE   AND   DEATH             .            .            .  226 

xi 


xii  CONTENTS. 

CHAP.  PAGE 

XVIII.     INSPIRATION,    DIVINATION,  EXORCISM,  AND   SOR- 
CERY      236 

XIX.     SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS  ;  SACRI- 
FICE,   FASTING,    AND    PROPITIATION  ;     PRAISE, 

PRATER,    ETC 253 

XX.     ANCESTOR-WORSHIP    IN    GENERAL       .  .  .  285 

XXI.     IDOL-WORSHIP   AND    FETICH-WORSHIP          .  .  306 

XXII.     ANIMAL-WORSHIP 329 

XXIII.  PLANT-WORSHIP 355 

XXIV.  NATURE-WORSHIP     ......  369 

XXV.     DEITIES 395 

XXVI.     THE    PRIMITIVE    THEORY    OF    THINGS  .  .  423 

XXVII.     THE   SCOPE   OF    SOCIOLOGY  435 


PAET  I. 

THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY, 


CHAPTEK  I. 

SUPER-ORGANIC    EVOLUTION. 

§  1.  OF  the  three  broadly-distinguished  kinds  of  Evolu- 
tion outlined  in  First  Principles,  we  come  now  to  the  third. 
The  first  kind,  Inorganic  Evolution,  which,  had  it  been 
dealt  with,  would  have  occupied  two  volumes,  one  deal- 
ing with  Astrogeny  and  the  other  with  Geogeny,  was  passed 
over  because  it  seemed  undesirable  to  postpone  the  more 
important  applications  of  the  doctrine  for  the  purpose  of 
elaborating  those  less  important  applications  which  logi- 
cally precede  them.  The  four  volumes  succeeding  First 
Principles,ha.ve  dealt  with  Organic  Evolution:  two  of  them 
with  those  physical  phenomena  presented  by  living  aggre- 
gates, vegetal  and  animal,  of  all  classes;  and  the  other  two 
with  those  more  special  phenomena  distinguished  as  psychi- 
cal, which  the  most  evolved  organic  aggregates  display. 
We  now  enter  on  the  remaining  division — Super-organic 
Evolution. 

Although  this  word  is  descriptive,  and  although  in  First 
Principles,  §  111,  I  used  it  with  an  explanatory  sentence, 
it  will  be  well  here  to  exhibit  its  meaning  more  fully. 

§  2.  While  we  are  occupied  with  the  facts  displayed  by 
an  individual  organism  during  its  growth,  maturity,  and 
decay,  we  are  studying  Organic  Evolution.  If  we  take  into 
account,  as  we  must,  the  actions  and  reactions  going  on 
between  this  organism  and  organisms  of  other  kinds  which 


4  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

its  life  puts  it  in  relations  with,  we  still  do  not  go  beyond  the 
limits  of  Organic  Evolution.  Nor  need  we  consider  that 
Ave  exceed  these  limits  on  passing  to  the  phenomena  that 
accompany  the  rearing  of  offspring;  though  here,  we  see 
the  germ  of  a  new  order  of  phenomena.  While  recognizing 
the  fact  that  parental  co-operation  foreshadows  processes  of 
a  class  beyond  the  simply  organic;  and  while  recognizing 
the  fact  that  some  of  the  products  of  parental  co-operation, 
such  as  nests,  foreshadow  products  of  the  super-organic  class ; 
we  may  fitly  regard  Super-organic  Evolution  as  commenc- 
ing only  when  there  arises  something  more  than  the  com- 
bined efforts  of  parents.  Of  course  no  absolute  separation 
exists.  If  there  has  been  Evolution,  that  form  of  it  here 
distinguished  as  super-organic  must  have  come  by  insensi- 
ble steps  out  of  the  organic.  But  we  may  conveniently 
mark  it  off  as  including  all  those  processes  and  products 
which  imply  the  co-ordinated  actions  of  many  individuals. 
There  are  various  groups  of  super-organic  phenomena, 
of  which  certain  minor  ones  may  be  briefly  noticed  here  by 
way  of  illustration. 

§  3.  Of  such  the  most  familiar,  and  in  some  respects 
the  most  instructive,  are  furnished  by  the  social  insects. 

All  know  that  bees  and  wasps  form  communities  such 
that  the  units  and  the  aggregates  stand  in  very  definite 
relations.  Between  the  individual  organization  of  the  hive- 
bee  and  the  organization  of  the  hive  as  an  orderly  aggregate 
of  individuals  with  a  regularly-formed  habitation,  there 
exists  a  fixed  connexion.  Just  as  the  germ  of  a  wasp  evolves 
into  a  complete  individual;  so  does  the  adult  queen-wasp, 
the  germ  of  a  wasp-society,  evolve  into  a  multitude  of  in- 
dividuals with  definitely-adjusted  arrangements  and  activi- 
ties. As  evidence  that  Evolution  of  this  order  has  here 
arisen  after  the  same  manner  as  the  simpler  orders  of  Evolu- 
tion, it  may  be  added  that,  among  both  bees  and  wasps,  dif- 
ferent genera  exhibit  it  in  different  degrees.  From  kinds 


SUPER-ORGANIC  EVOLUTION.  5 

that  are  solitary  in  their  habits,  we  pass  through  kinds  that 
are  social  in  small  degrees  to  kinds  that  are  social  in  great 
degrees. 

Among  some  species  of  ants,  Super-organic  Evolution  is 
carried  much  further — some  species,  I  say;  for  here,  also, 
we  find  that  unlike  stages  have  been  reached  by  unlike 
species.  The  most  advanced  show  us  division  of  labour  car- 
ried so  far  that  different  classes  of  individuals  are  structur- 
ally adapted  to  different  functions.  White  ants,  or  ter- 
mites (which,  however,  belong  to  a  different  order  of  in- 
sects), have,  in  addition  to  males  and  females,  soldiers  and 
workers;  and  there  are  in  some  cases  two  kinds  of  males 
and  females,  winged  and  un winged:  making  six  unlike 
forms.  Of  Saiiba  ants  are  found,  besides  the  two  developed 
sexual  forms,  three  forms  sexually  undeveloped — one  class 
of  indoor  workers  and  two  classes  of  out-door  workers.  And 
then  by  some  species,  a  further  division  of  labour  is  achieved 
by  making  slaves  of  other  ants.  There  is  also  a  tending  of 
alien  insects,  sometimes  for  the  sake  of  their  secretions,  and 
sometimes  for  unknown  purposes;  so  that,  as  Sir  John  Lub- 
bock  points  out,  some  ants  keep  more  domestic  animals 
than  are  kept  by  mankind.  Moreover,  among  members  of 
these  communities,  there  is  a  system  of  signalling  equiva- 
lent to  a  rude  language,  and  there  are  elaborate  processes 
of  mining,  road-making,  and  building.  In  Congo,  Tuckey 
"  found  a  complete  banza  [village]  of  ant-hills,  placed  with 
more  regularity  than  the  native  banzas  " ;  and  Schwein~ 
f  urth  says  a  volume  would  be  required  to  describe  the  maga- 
zines, chambers,  passages,  bridges,  contained  in  a  tewiites- 
mound. 

But,  as  hinted  above,  though  social  insects  exhibit  a  kind 
of  evolution  much  higher  than  the  merely  organic — though 
the  aggregates  they  form  simulate  social  aggregates  in  sun- 
dry ways;  yet  they  are  not  true  social  aggregates.  For 
each  of  them  is  in  reality  a  large  family.  It  is  not  a  union 
among  like  individuals  independent  of  one  another  in  par- 
2 


6  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

entage,  and  approximately  equal  in  the  capacities;  but  it 
is  a  union  among  the  offspring  of  one  mother,  carried  on, 
in  some  cases  for  a  single  generation,  and  in  some  cases  for 
more ;  and  from  this  community  of  parentage  arises  the  pos- 
sibility of  classes  having  unlike  structures  and  consequent 
unlike  functions.  Instead  of  being  allied  to  the  specializa- 
tion which  arises  in  a  society,  properly  so  called,  the  speciali- 
zation which  arises  in  one  of  these  large  and  complicated 
insect-families,  is  allied  to  that  which  arises  between  the 
sexes.  Instead  of  two  kinds  of  individuals  descending  from 
the  same  parents,  there  are  several  kinds  of  individuals 
descending  from  the  same  parents;  and  instead  of  a  simple 
co-operation  between  two  differentiated  individuals  in  the 
rearing  of  offspring,  there  is  an  involved  co-operation  among 
sundry  differentiated  classes  of  individuals  in  the  rearing 
of  offspring. 

§  4.  True  rudimentary  forms  of  Super-organic  Evolu- 
tion are  displayed  only  by  some  of  the  higher  vertebrata. 

Certain  birds  form  communities  in  which  there  is  a  small 
amount  of  co-ordination.  Among  rooks  we  see  such  integra- 
tion as  is  implied  by  the  keeping-together  of  the  same 
families  from  generation  to  generation,  and  by  the  exclusion 
of  strangers.  There  is  some  vague  control,  some  recog- 
nition of  proprietorship,  some  punishment  of  offenders,  and 
occasionally  expulsion  of  them.  A  slight  specialization  is 
shown  in  the  stationing  of  sentinels  while  the  flock  feeds. 
And  usually  we  see  an  orderly  action  of  the  whole  com- 
munity in  respect  of  going  and  coming.  There  has  been 
reached  a  oo-operation  comparable  to  that  exhibited  by  those 
small  assemblages  of  the  lowest  human  beings,  in  which 
there  exist  no  governments. 

Gregarious  mammals  of  most  kinds  display  little  more 
than  the  union  of  mere  association.  In  the  supremacy  of 
the  strongest  male  in  the  herd,  we  do,  indeed,  see  a  trace  of 
governmental  organization.  Some  co-operation  is  shown, 


SUPER-ORGANIC  EVOLUTION.  7 

for  offensive  purposes,  by  animals  that  hunt  in  packs,  and 
for  defensive  purposes  by  animals  that  are  hunted;  as,  ac- 
cording to  Ross,  by  the  North  American  buffaloes,  the  bulls 
of  which  assemble  to  guard  the  cows  during  the  calving- 
season  against  wolves  and  bears.  Certain  gregarious  mam- 
mals, however,  as  the  beavers,  carry  social  co-operation  to 
a  considerable  extent  in  building  habitations.  Finally, 
among  sundry  of  the.£V^raafe,s,gregariousness  is  joined  with 
some  subordination,  some  combination,  some  display  of  the 
social  sentiments.  There  is  obedience  to  leaders;  there  is 
union  of  efforts;  there  are  sentinels  and  signals;  there  is 
an  idea  of  property;  there  is  exchange  of  services;  there 
is  adoption  of  orphans;  and  the  community  makes  efforts 
on  behalf  of  endangered  members. 

§  5.  These  classes  of  truths,  which  might  be  enlarged 
upon  to  much  purpose,  I  have  here  indicated  for  several 
reasons.  Partly,  it  seemed  needful  to  show  that  above  or- 
ganic evolution  there  tends  to  arise  in  various  directions  a 
further  evolution.  Partly,  my  object  has  been  to  give  a 
comprehensive  idea  of  this  Super-organic  Evolution,  as  not 
of  one  kind  but  of  various  kinds,  determined  by  the  char- 
acters of  the  various  species  of  organisms  among  which  it 
shows  itself.  And  partly,  there  has  been  the  wish  to  sug- 
gest that  Super-organic  Evolution  of  the  highest  order, 
arises  out  of  an  order  no  higher  than  that  variously  displayed 
in  the  animal  world  at  large. 

Having  observed  this  much,  we  may  henceforth  restrict 
ourselves  to  that  form  of  Super-organic  Evolution  which  so 
immensely  transcends  all  others  in  extent,  in  complication, 
in  importance,  as  to  make  them  relatively  insignificant.  I 
refer  to  the  form  of  it  which  human  societies  exhibit  in 
their  growths,  structures,  functions,  products.  To  the  phe- 
nomena comprised  in  these,  and  grouped  under  the  general 
title  of  Sociology,  we  now  pass. 


CHAPTER  H. 

THE    FACTORS    OF    SOCIAL    PHENOMENA. 

§  6.  THE  behaviour  of  a  single  inanimate  object  depends 
on  the  co-operation  between  its  own  forces  and  the  forces 
to  which  it  is  exposed :  instance  a  piece  of  metal,  the  mole- 
cules of  which  keep  the  solid  state  or  assume  the  liquid 
state,  according  partly  to  their  natures  and  partly  to  the 
heat-waves  falling  on  them.  Similarly  with  any  group  of 
inanimate  objects.  Be  it  a  cart-load  of  bricks  shot  down, 
a  barrowf ul  of  gravel  turned  over,  or  a  boy's  bag  of  marbles 
emptied,  the  behaviour  of  the  assembled  masses-^-here  stand- 
ing in  a  heap  with  steep  sides,  here  forming  one  with  sides 
much  less  inclined,  and  here  spreading  out  and  rolling  in 
all  directions — is  in  each  case  determined  partly  by  the 
properties  of  the  individual  members  of  the  group,  and 
partly  by  the  forces  of  gravitation,  impact,  and  friction,  they 
are  subjected  to. 

It  is  equally  so  when  the  discrete  aggregate  consists  of 
organic  bodies,  such  as  the  members  of  a  species.  For  a 
species  increases  or  decreases  in  numbers,  widens  or  con- 
tracts its  habitat,  migrates  or  remains  stationary,  continues 
an  old  mode  of  life  or  falls  into  a  new  one,  under  the  com- 
bined influences  of  its  intrinsic  nature  and  the  environing 
actions,  inorganic  and  organic. 

It  is  thus,  too,  with  aggregates  of  men.  Be  it  rudimen- 
tary or  be  it  advanced,  every  society  displays  phenomena 
that  are  ascribable  to  the  characters  of  its  units  and  to  the 

8 


THE  FACTORS  OF  SOCIAL  PHENOMENA.  9 

conditions  under  which  they  exist.    Here,  then,  are  the  fac- 
tors as  primarily  divided. 

§  7.  These  factors  are  re-divisible.  Within  each  there 
are  groups  of  factors  that  stand  in  marked  contrasts. 

Beginning  with  the  extrinsic  factors,  we  see  that  from 
the  outset  several  kinds  of  them  are  variously  operative. 
We  have  climate;  hot,  cold,  or  temperate,  moist  or  dry, 
constant  or  variable.  We  have  surface;  much  or  little  of 
which  is  available,  and  the  available  part  of  which  is  fertile 
in  greater  or  less  degree ;  and  we  have  configuration  of  sur- 
face, as  uniform  or  multiform.  Next  we  have  the  vegetal 
productions;  here  abundant  in  quantities  and  kinds,  and 
there  deficient  in  one  or  both.  And  besides  the  Flora  of 
the  region  we  have  its  Fauna,  which  is  influential  in  many 
ways;  not  only  by  the  numbers  of  its  species  and  individ- 
uals, but  by  the  proportion  between  those  that  are  useful 
and  those  that  are  injurious.  On  these  sets  of  conditions, 
inorganic  and  organic,  characterizing  the  environment,  pri- 
marily depends  the  possibility  of  social  evolution. 

When  we  turn  to  the  intrinsic  factors  we  have  to  note, 
first,  that,  considered  as  a  social  unit,  the  individual  man 
has  physical  traits,  such  as  degrees  of  strength,  activity,  en- 
durance, which  affect  the  growth  and  structure  of  the  soci- 
ety. He  is  in  every  case  distinguished  by  emotional  traits 
which  aid,  or  hinder,  or  modify,  the  activities  of  the  society, 
and  its  developments.  Always,  too,  his  degree  of  intelli- 
gence and  the  tendencies  of  thought  peculiar  to  him,  be- 
come co-operating  causes  of  social  quiescence  or  social 
change. 

Such  being  the  original  sets  of  factors,  we  have  now  to 
note  the  secondary  or  derived  sets  of  factors,  which  social 
evolution  itself  brings  into  play. 

§  8.  First  may  be  set  down  the  progressive  modifications 
of  the  environment,  inorganic  and  organic,  which  societies 
effect. 


10  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Among  these  are  the  alterations  of  climate  caused  by 
clearing  and  by  drainage.  Such  alterations  may  be  favour- 
able to  social  growth,  as  where  a  rainy  region  is  made  less 
rainy  by  cutting  down  forests,  or  a  swampy  surface  rendered 
more  salubrious  and  fertile  by  carrying  off  water  * ;  or  they 
may  be  unfavourable,  as  where,  by  destroying  the  forests,  a 
region  already  dry  is  made  arid :  witness  the  seat  of  the  old 
Semitic  civilizations,  and,  in  a  less  degree,  Spain. 

Next  come  the  changes  wrought  in  the  kinds  and  quan- 
tities of  plant-life  over  the  surface  occupied.  These  changes 
are  three-fold.  There  is  the  increasing  culture  of  plants 
conducive  to  social  growth,  replacing  plants  not  conducive 
to  it;  there  is  the  gradual  production  of  better  varieties  of 
these  useful  plants,  causing,  in  time,  great  divergences  from 
their  originals;  and  there  is,  eventually,  the  introduction  of 
new  useful  plants. 

Simultaneously  go  on  the  kindred  changes  which  social 
progress  works  in  the  Fauna  of  the  region.  We  have  the 
diminution  or  destruction  of  some  or  many  injurious  spe- 
cies. We  have  the  fostering  of  useful  species,  which  has 
the  double  effect  of  increasing  their  numbers  and  making 
their  qualities  more  advantageous  to  society.  Further,  we 
have  the  naturalization  of  desirable  species  brought  from 
abroad. 

It  needs  but  to  think  of  the  immense  contrast  between  a 
wolf -haunted  forest  or  a  boggy  moor  peopled  with  wild 
birds,  and  the  fields  covered  .with  crops  and  flocks  which 

*  It  is  worth  noting  that  drainage  increases  what  we  may  figuratively  call 
terrestrial  respiration ;  and  that  on  terrestrial  respiration  the  lives  of  land- 
plants,  and  therefore  of  land-animals,  and  therefore  of  men,  depend.  Every 
change  of  atmospheric  pressure  produces  exits  or  entrances  of  the  air  into  all 
the  interstices  of  the  soil.  The  depth  to  which  these  irregular  inspirations 
and  expirations  reach,  is  increased  by  freedom  from  water ;  since  interstices 
occupied  by  water  cannot  be  filled  by  air.  Thus  those  chemical  decomposi- 
tions effected  by  the  air  that  is  renewed  w  ith  every  fall  and  rise  of  the  baro- 
meter, are  extended  to  a  greater  depth  by  drainage;  and  the  plant-life 
depending  on  such  decompositions  is  facilitated. 


THE  FACTORS  OP  SOCIAL  PHENOMENA.  H 

eventually  occupy  the  same  area,  to  be  reminded  that  the 
environment,  inorganic  and  organic,  of  a  society,  under- 
goes a  continuous  transformation  during  the  progress  of  the 
society;  and  that  this  transformation  becomes  an  all-im- 
portant secondary  factor  in  social  evolution. 

§  9.  Another  secondary  factor  is  the  increasing  size  of 
the  social  aggregate,  accompanied,  generally,  by  increasing 
density. 

Apart  from  social  changes  otherwise  produced,  there  are 
social  changes  produced  by  simple  growth.  Mass  is  both  a 
condition  to,  and  a  result  of,  organization.  It  is  clear  that 
heterogeneity  of  structure  is  made  possible  only  by  multi- 
plicity of  units.  Division  of  labour  cannot  be  carried  far 
where  there  are  but  few  to  divide  the  labour  among  them. 
Complex  co-operations,  governmental  and  industrial,  are 
impossible  without  a  population  large  enough  to  supply 
many  kinds  and  gradations  of  agents.  And  sundry  devel- 
oped forms  of  activity,  both  predatory  and  peaceful,  are 
made  practicable  only  by  the  power  which  large  masses  of 
men  furnish. 

Hence,  then,  a  derivative  factor  which,  like  the  rest,  is  at 
once  a  consequence  and  a  cause  of  social  progress,  is  social 
growth.  Other  factors  co-operate  to  produce  this;  and  this 
joins  other  factors  in  working  further  changes. 

§  10.  Among  derived  factors  we  may  next  note  the 
reciprocal  influence  of  the  society  and  its  units — the  influ- 
ence of  the  whole  on  the  parts,  and  of  the  parts  on  the  whole. 

As  soon  as  a  combination  of  men  acquires  permanence, 
there  begin  actions  and  reactions  between  the  community 
and  each  member. of  it,  such  that  either  affects  the  other  in 
nature.  The  control  exercised  by  the  aggregate  over  its 
units,  tends  ever  to  mould  their  activities  and  sentiments 
and  ideas  into  congruity  with  social  requirements;  and 
these  activities,  sentiments,  and  ideas,  in  so  far  as  they  are 


12  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

changed  by  changing  circumstances,  tend  to  re-mould  the 
society  into  congruity  with  themselves. 

In  addition,  therefore,  to  the  original  nature  of  the 
individuals  and  the  original  nature  of  the  society  they  form, 
we  have  to  take  into  account  the  induced  natures  of  the 
two.  Eventually,  mutual  modification  becomes  a  potent 
cause  of  transformation  in  both. 

§  11.  Yet  a  further  derivative  factor  of  extreme  import- 
ance remains.  I  mean  the  influence  of  the  super-organic 
environment — the  action  and  reaction  between  a  society  and 
neighbouring  societies. 

While  there  exist  only  small,  wandering,  unorganized 
hordes,  the  conflicts  of  these  with  one  another  work  no 
permanent  changes  of  arrangement  in  them.  But  when 
there  have  arisen  the  definite  chieftainships  which  frequent 
conflicts  tend  to  initiate,  and  especially  when  the  conflicts 
have  ended  in  subjugations,  there  arise  the  rudiments  of 
political  organization;  and,  as  at  first,  so  afterwards,  the 
wars  of  societies  with  one  another  have  all-important  effects 
in  developing  social  structures,  or  rather,  certain  of  them. 
For  I  may  here,  in  passing,  indicate  the  truth  to  be  hereafter 
exhibited  in  full,  that  while  the  industrial  organization  of  a 
society  is  mainly  determined  by  its  inorganic  and  organic 
environments,  its  governmental  organization  is  mainly  de- 
termined by  its  super-organic  environment — by  the  actions 
of  those  adjacent  societies  with  which  it  carries  on  the  strug- 
gle for  existence. 

§  12.  There  remains  in  the  group  of  derived  factors  one 
more,  the  potency  of  which  can  scarcely  be  over-estimated. 
I  mean  that  accumulation  of  super-organic  products  which 
we  commonly  distinguish  as  artificial,  but  which,  philoso- 
phically considered,  are  no  less  natural  than  all  other  pro- 
ducts of  evolution.  There  are  several  orders  of  these. 

First  come  the  material  appliances,  which,  beginning 
with  roughly-chipped  flints,  end  in  the  complex  automatic 


THE  FACTORS  OP  SOCIAL  PHENOMENA.  13 

tools  of  an  engine-factory  driven  by  steam;  which  from 
boomerangs  rise  to  eighty-ton  guns;  which  from  huts  of 
branches  and  grass  grow  to  cities  with  their  palaces  and 
cathedrals.  Then  we  have  language,  able  at  first 

only  to  eke  out  gestures  in  communicating  simple  ideas,  but 
eventually  becoming  capable  of  expressing  involved  concep- 
tions with  precision.  AVhile  from  that  stage  in  which  it 
conveys  thoughts  only  by  sounds  to  one  or  a  few  persons, 
we  pass  through  picture-writing  up  to  steam-printing: 
multiplying  indefinitely  the  numbers  communicated  with, 
and  making  accessible  in  voluminous  literatures  the  ideas 
and  feelings  of  countless  men  in  various  places  and 
times.  Concomitantly  there  goes  on  the  develop- 

ment of  knowledge,  ending  in  science.  Numeration  on  the 
fingers  grows  into  far-reaching  mathematics;  observation  of 
the  moon's  changes  leads  in  time  to  a  theory  of  the  solar 
system;  and  there  successively  arise  sciences  of  which  not 
even  the  germs  could  at  first  be  detected.  Mean- 

while the  once  few  and  simple  customs,  becoming  more 
numerous,  definite,  and  fixed,  end  in  systems  of  laws.  Rude 
superstitions  initiate  elaborate  mythologies,  theologies,  cos- 
mogonies. Opinion  getting  embodied  in  creeds,  gets  em- 
bodied, too,  in  accepted  codes  of  ceremony  and  conduct,  and 
in  established  social  sentiments.  And  then  there 

slowly  evolve  also  the  products  we  call  aesthetic;  which  of 
themselves  form  a  highly-complex  group.  From  necklaces 
of  fishbones  we  advance  to  dresses  elaborate,  gorgeous,  and 
infinitely  varied;  out  of  discordant  war-chants  come  sym- 
phonies and  operas;  cairns  develop  into  magnificent  tem- 
ples; in  place  of  caves  with  rude  markings  there  arise  at 
length  galleries  of  paintings;  and  the  recital  of  a  chief's 
deeds  with  mimetic  accompaniment  gives  origin  to  epics, 
dramas,  lyrics,  and  the  vast  mass  of  poetry,  fiction,  biogra- 
phy, and  history. 

These  various  orders  of  super-organic  products,  each  de- 
veloping within  itself  new  genera  and  species  while  growing 


14:  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

into  a  larger  whole,  and  each  acting  on  the  other  orders 
while  reacted  on  by  them,  constitute  an  immensely-volumi- 
nous, immensely-complicated,  and  immensely-powerful  set 
of  influences.  During  social  evolution  they  are  ever  modi- 
fying individuals  and  modifying  society,  while  being  modi- 
fied by  both.  They  gradually  form  what  we  may  consider 
either  as  a  non-vital  part  of  the  society  itself,  or  else  as  a 
secondary  environment,  which  eventually  becomes  more 
important  than  the  primary  environments — so  much  more 
important  that  there  arises  the  possibility  of  carrying  on  a 
high  kind  of  social  life  under  inorganic  and  organic  con- 
ditions which  originally  would  have  prevented  it. 

§  13.  Such  are  the  factors  in  outline.  Even  when  pre- 
sented under  this  most  general  form,  the  combination  of 
them  is  seen  to  be  of  an  involved  kind. 

Recognizing  the  primary  truth  that  social  phenomena 
depend  in  part  on  the  natures  of  the  individuals  and  in  part 
on  the  forces  the  individuals  are  subject  to,  we  see  that  these 
two  fundamentally-distinct  sets  of  factors,  with  which  social 
changes  commence,  give  origin  to  other  sets  as  social  changes 
advance.  The  pre-established  environing  influences,  inor- 
ganic and  organic,  which  are  at  first  almost  unalterable, 
become  more  and  more  altered  by  the  actions  of  the  evolving 
society.  Simple  growth  of  population  brings  into  play  fresh 
causes  of  transformation  that  are  increasingly  important. 
The  influences  which  the  society  exerts  on  the  natures  of 
its  units,  and  those  which  the  units  exert  on  the  nature  of 
the  society,  incessantly  co-operate  in  creating  new  elements. 
As  societies  progress  in  size  and  structure,  they  work  on  one 
another,  now  by  their  war-struggles  and  now  by  their  indus- 
trial intercourse,  profound  metamorphoses.  And  the  ever- 
accumulating,  ever-complicating  super-organic  products, 
material  and  mental,  constitute  a  further  set  of  factors  which 
become  more  and  more  influential  causes  of  change.  So 
that,  involved  as  the  factors  are  at  the  beginning,  each  step 


THE  FACTORS  OF  SOCIAL  PHENOMENA.  15 

in  advance  increases  the  involution,  by  adding  factors  which 
themselves  grow  more  complex  while  they  grow  more  pow- 
erful. 

But  now  having  glanced  at  the  factors  of  all  orders, 
original  and  derived,  we  must  neglect  for  the  present  those 
which  are  derived,  and  attend  exclusively,  or  almost  exclu- 
sively, to  those  which  are  original.  The  Data  of  Sociology, 
here  to  be  dealt  with,  we  must,  as  far  as  possible,  restrict  to 
those  primary  data  common  to  social  phenomena  in  general, 
and  most  readily  distinguished  in  the  simplest  societies. 
Adhering  to  the  broad  division  made  at  the  outset  between 
the  extrinsic  and  intrinsic  co-operating  causes,  we  will  con- 
sider first  the  extrinsic. 


CHAPTER  III. 

ORIGINAL    EXTERNAL    FACTORS. 

§  14.  A  COMPLETE  outline  of  the  original  external  fac- 
tors implies  a  knowledge  of  the  past  which  we  have  not  got, 
and  are  not  likely  to  get.  Now  that  geologists  and  archae- 
ologists are  uniting  to  prove  that  human  existence  goes 
back  to  a  time  so  remote  that  "  pre-historic  "  scarcely  ex- 
presses it,  we  are  shown  that  the  effects  of  external  condi- 
tions on  social  evolution  cannot  be  fully  traced.  Remem- 
bering that  the  20,000  years,  or  so,  during  which  man  has 
lived  in  the  Nile-valley,  is  made  to  seem  a  relatively-small 
period  by  the  evidence  that  he  coexisted  with  the  extinct 
mammals  of  the  drift — remembering  that  England  had 
human  inhabitants  at  an  epoch  which  good  judges  think 
was  glacial — remembering  that  in  America,  along  with  the 
bones  of  a  Mastodon  imbedded  in  the  alluvium  of  the  Bour- 
bense,  were  found  arrow-heads  and  other  traces  of  the  sav- 
ages who  had  killed  this  member  of  an  order  no  longer 
represented  in  that  part  of  the  world — remembering  that, 
judging  from  the  evidence  as  interpreted  by  Professor  Hux- 
ley, those  vast  subsidences  which  changed  a  continent  into 
the  Eastern  Archipelago,  took  place  after  the  Negro-race 
was  established  as  a  distinct  variety  of  man ;  we  must  infer 
that  it  is  hopeless  to  trace  back  the  external  factors  of  social 
phenomena  to  anything  like  their  first  forms. 

One  important  truth  only,  implied  by  the  evidence  thus 
glanced  at,  must  be  noted.  Geological  changes  and  meteoro- 
logical changes,  as  well  as  the  consequent  changes  of  Floras 

16 


ORIGINAL  EXTERNAL  FACTORS.  17 

and  Faunas,  must  have  been  causing,  over  all  parts  of  the 
Earth,  perpetual  emigrations  and  immigrations.  From  each 
locality  made  less  habitable  by  increasing  inclemency,  a 
wave  of  diffusion  must  have  spread ;  into  each  locality  made 
more  favourable  to  human  existence  by  amelioration  of  cli- 
mate, or  increase  of  indigenous  food,  or  both,  a  wave  of  con- 
centration must  have  been  set  up;  and  by  great  geological 
changes,  here  sinking  areas  of  land  and  there  raising  areas, 
other  redistributions  of  mankind  must  have  been  produced. 
Accumulating  facts  show  that  these  enforced  ebbings  and 
flowings  have,  in  some  localities,  and  probably  in  most,  taken 
place  time  after  time.  And  such  waves  of  emigration  and 
immigration  must  have  been  ever  bringing  the  dispersed 
groups  of  the  race  into  contact  with  conditions  more  or  less 
new. 

Carrying  with  us  this  conception  of  the  way  in  which 
the  external  factors,  original  in  the  widest  sense,  have  co- 
operated throughout  all  past  time,  we  must  limit  our  atten- 
tion to  such  effects  of  them  as  we  have  now  before  us. 

§  15.  Life  in  general  is  possible  only  between  certain 
limits  of  temperature;  and  life  of  the  higher  kinds  is  pos- 
sible only  within  a  comparatively-narrow  range  of  tempera- 
ture, maintained  artificially  if  not  naturally.  Hence  social 
life,  pre-supposing  as  it  does  not  only  human  life  but  that 
life  vegetal  and  animal  on  which  human  life  depends,  is  re- 
stricted by  certain  extremes  of  cold  and  heat. 

Cold,  though  great,  does  not  rigorously  exclude  warm- 
blooded creatures,  if  the  locality  supplies  adequate  means  of 
generating  heat.  The  arctic  regions  contain  various  marine 
and  terrestrial  mammals,  large  and  small ;  but  the  existence 
of  these  depends,  directly  or  indirectly,  on  the  existence  of 
the  inferior  marine  creatures,  vertebrate  and  invertebrate, 
which  would  cease  to  live  there  did  not  the  warm  currents 
from  the  tropics  check  the  formation  of  ice.  Hence  such 
human  life  as  we  find  in  the  far  north,  dependent  as  it  is 


18  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

mainly  on  the  life  of  these  mammals,  is  also  remotely  de- 
pendent on  the  same  source  of  heat.  But  where, 
as  in  such  places,  the  temperature  which  man's  vital  func- 
tions require  can  be  maintained  with  difficulty,  social  evo- 
lution is  not  possible.  There  can  be  neither  a  sufficient  sur- 
plus-power in  each  individual  nor  a  sufficient  number  of 
individuals.  Not  only  are  the  energies  of  an  Esquimaux 
expended  mainly  in  guarding  against  loss  of  heat,  but  his 
bodily  functions  are  greatly  modified  to  the  same  end. 
Without  fuel,  and,  indeed,  unable  to  burn  within  his  snow- 
hut  anything  more  than  an  oil-lamp,  lest  the  walls  should 
melt,  he  has  to  keep  up  that  warmth  which  even  his  thick 
fur-dress  fails  to  retain,  by  devouring  vast  quantities  of  blub- 
ber and  oil;  and  his  digestive  system,  heavily  taxed  in  pro- 
viding the  wherewith  to  meet  excessive  loss  by  radiation, 
supplies  less  material  for  other  vital  purposes.  This  great 
physiological  cost  of  individual  life,  indirectly  checking 
the  multiplication  of  individuals,  arrests  social  evolu- 
tion. A  kindred  relation  of  cause  and  effect  is 
shown  us  in  the  Southern  hemisphere  by  the  still-more- 
miserable  Fuegians.  Living  nearly  unclothed  in  a  region 
of  storms,  which  their  wretched  dwellings  of  sticks  and 
grass  do  not  exclude,  and  having  little  food  but  fish  and 
mollusks,  these  beings,  described  as  scarcely  human  in  ap- 
pearance, have  such  difficulty  in  preserving  the  vital  balance 
in  face  of  the  rapid  escape  of  heat,  that  the  surplus  for  in- 
dividual development  is  narrowly  restricted,  and,  conse- 
quently, the  surplus  for  producing  and  rearing  new  indi- 
viduals. Hence  the  numbers  remain  too  small  for  exhibit- 
ing anything  beyond  incipient  social  existence. 

Though,  in  some  tropical  regions,  an  opposite  extreme 
of  temperature  so  far  impedes  the  vital  actions  as  to  impede 
social  development,  yet  hindrance  from  this  cause  seems 
exceptional  and  relatively  unimportant.  Life  in  general, 
and  mammalian  life  along  with  it,  is  great  in  quantity  as 
well  as  individually  high,  in  localities  that  are  among  the 


ORIGINAL  EXTERNAL  FACTORS.  19 

hottest.  The  silence  of  the  forests  during  the  noontide  glare 
in  such  localities,  does,  indeed,  furnish  evidence  of  enerva- 
tion; but  in  cooler  parts  of  the  twenty-four  hours  there  is 
a  compensating  energy.  And  if  varieties  of  the  human  race 
adapted  to  these  localities,  show,  in  comparison  with  our- 
selves, some  indolence,  this  does  not  seem  greater  than,  or 
even  equal  to,  the  indolence  of  the  primitive  man  in  tem- 
perate climates.  Contemplated  in  the  mass,  facts 
do  not  countenance  the  current  idea  that  great  heat  hinders 
progress.  All  the  earliest  recorded  civilizations  belonged 
to  regions  which,  if  not  tropical,  almost  equal  the  tropics  in 
height  of  temperature.  India  and  Southern  China,  as  still 
existing,  show  us  great  social  evolutions  within  the  tropics. 
The  vast  architectural  remains  of  Java  and  of  Cambodia 
yield  proofs  of  other  tropical  civilizations  in  the  East ;  while 
the  extinct  societies  of  Central  America,  Mexico,  and  Peru, 
need  but  be  named  to  make  it  manifest  that  in  the  Xew 
World  also,  there  were  in  past  times  great  advances  in  hot 
regions.  It  is  thus,  too,  if  we  compare  societies 
of  ruder  types  that  have  developed  in  warm  climates,  with 
allied  societies  belonging  to  colder  climates.  Tahiti,  the 
Tonga  Islands,  and  the  Sandwich  Islands,  are  within  the 
tropics ;  and  in  them,  when  first  discovered,  there  had  been 
reached  stages  of  evolution  which  were  remarkable  con- 
sidering the  absence  of  metals. 

I  do  not  ignore  the  fact  that  in  recent  times  societies  have 
evolved  most,  both  in  size  and  complexity,  in  temperate 
regions.  I  simply  join  with  this  the  fact  that  the  first 
considerable  societies  arose,  and  the  primary  stages  of  social 
development  were  reached,  in  hot  climates.  The  truth  would 
seem  to  be  that  the  earlier  phases  of  progress  had  to  be 
passed  through  where  the  resistances  offered  by  inorganic 
conditions  were  least;  that  when  the  arts  of  life  had  been 
advanced,  it  became  possible  for  societies  to  develop  in 
regions  where  the  resistances  were  greater;  and  that  further 
developments  in  the  arts  of  life,  with  the  further  discipline 


20  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY, 

in  co-operation  accompanying  them,  enabled  subsequent 
societies  to  take  root  and  grow  in  regions  which,  by  climatic 
and  other  conditions,  offered  relatively-great  resistances. 

We  must  therefore  say  that  solar  radiation,  being  the 
source  of  those  forces  by  which  life,  vegetal  and  animal,  is 
carried  on;  and  being,  by  implication,  the  source  of  the 
forces  displayed  in  human  life,  and  consequently  in  social 
life;  it  results  that  there  can  be  no  considerable  social  evo- 
lution on  tracts  of  the  Earth's  surface  where  solar  radiation 
is  very  feeble.  Though,  contrariwise,  there  is  on  some  tracts 
a  solar  radiation  in  excess  of  the  degree  most  favourable 
to  vital  actions ;  yet  the  consequent  hindrance  to  social  evo- 
lution is  relatively  small.  Further,  we  conclude  that  an 
abundant  supply  of  light  and  heat  is  especially  requisite  dur- 
ing those  first  stages  of  progress  in  which  social  vitality  is 
small. 

§  16.  Passing  over  such  traits  of  climate  as  variability 
and  equability,  whether  diurnal,  annual,  or  irregular,  all  of 
which  have  their  effects  on  human  activities,  and  therefore 
on  social  phenomena,  I  will  name  one  other  climatic  trait 
that  appears  to  be  an  important  factor.  I  refer  to  the  qual- 
ity of  the  air  in  respect  of  dryness  or  moisture. 

Either  extreme  brings  indirect  impediments  to  civiliza- 
tion, which  we  may  note  before  observing  the  direct  effects. 
That  great  dryness  of  the  air,  causing  a  parched  surface  and 
a  scanty  vegetation,  negatives  the  multiplication  needed  for 
advanced  social  life,  is  a  familar  fact.  And  it  is  a  fact, 
though  not  a  familiar  one,  that  extreme  humidity,  especially 
when  joined  with  great  heat,  may  raise  unexpected  obstacles 
to  progress ;  as,  for  example,  in  parts  of  East  Africa,  where 
"  the  springs  of  powder-flasks  exposed  to  the  damp  snap  like 
toasted  quills;  .  .  .  paper,  becoming  soft  and  soppy  by  the 
loss  of  glazing,  acts  as  a  blotter;  .  .  .  metals  are  ever  rusty; 
.  .  .  and  gunpowder,  if  not  kept  from  the  air,  refuses  to 
ignite." 


21 

But  it  is  the  direct  effects  of  different  hygrometric  states, 
which  are  most  noteworthy — the  effects  on  the  vital  pro- 
cesses, and,  therefore,  on  the  individual  activities,  and, 
through  them,  on  the  social  activities.  Bodily  functions 
are  facilitated  by  atmospheric  conditions  which  make  evap- 
oration from  the  skin  and  lungs  rapid.  That  weak  persons, 
whose  variations  of  health  furnish  good  tests,  are  worse  when 
the  air  is  surcharged  with  water,  and  are  better  when  the 
weather  is  fine;  and  that  commonly  such  persons  are  ener- 
vated by  residence  in  moist  localities  but  invigorated  by 
residence  in  dry  ones,  are  facts  generally  recognized.  And 
this  relation  of  cause  and  effect,  manifest  in  individuals, 
doubtless  holds  in  races.  Throughout  temperate  regions, 
differences  of  constitutional  activity  due  to  differences  of 
atmospheric  humidity,  are  less  traceable  than  in  torrid  re- 
gions: the  reason  being  that  all  the  inhabitants  are  subject 
to  a  tolerably  quick  escape  of  water  from  their  surfaces; 
since  the  air,  though  well  charged  with  water,  will  take  up 
more  when  its  temperature,  previously  low,  is  raised  by 
contact  with  the  body.  But  it  is  otherwise  in  tropical  re- 
gions where  the  body  and  the  air  bathing  it  differ  much 
less  in  temperature;  and  where,  indeed,  the  air  is  some- 
times higher  in  temperature  than  the  body.  Here  the  rate 
of  evaporation  depends  almost  wholly  on  the  quantity  of 
surrounding  vapour.  If  the  air  is  hot  and  moist,  the  escape 
of  water  through  the  skin  and  lungs  is  greatly  hindered; 
while  it  is  greatly  facilitated  if  the  air  is  hot  and  dry.  Hence 
in  the  torrid  zone,  we  may  expect  constitutional  differences 
between  the  inhabitants  of  low  steaming  tracts  and  the  in- 
habitants of  tracts  parched  with  heat.  Xeedful  as  are 
cutaneous  and  pulmonary  evaporation  for  maintaining  the 
movement  of  fluids  through  the  tissues  aijd  thus  further- 
ing molecular  changes,  it  is  to  be  inferred  that,  other 
things  equal,  there  will  be  more  bodily  activity  in  the  peo- 
ple of  hot  and  dry  localities  than  in  the  people  of  hot  and 

humid  localities. 
3 


22  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

The  evidence  justifies  this  inference.  The  earliest- 
recorded  civilization  grew  up  in  a  hot  and  dry  region — 
Egypt;  and  in  hot  and  dry  regions  also  arose  the  Baby- 
lonian, Assyrian,  and  Phoenician  civilizations.  But  the  facts 
when  stated  in  terms  of  nations  are  far  less  striking  than 
when  stated  in  terms  of  races.  On  glancing  over  a  general 
rain-map,  there  will  be  seen  an  almost-continuous  area 
marked  "  rainless  district,"  extending  across  North  Africa, 
Arabia,  Persia,  and  on  through  Thibet  into  Mongolia;  and 
from  within,  or  from  the  borders  of,  this  district,  have  come 
all  the  conquering  races  of  the  Old  World.  We  have  the 
Tartar  race,  which,  passing  the  Southern  mountain-bound- 
ary of  this  rainless  district,  peopled  China  and  the  regions 
between  it  and  India — thrusting  the  aborigines  of  these 
areas  into  the  hilly  tracts;  and  which  has  sent  successive 
waves  of  invaders  not  into  these  regions  only,  but  into  the 
West.  We  have  the  Aryan  race,  overspreading  India  and 
making  its  way  through  Europe.  We  have  the  Semitic 
race,  becoming  dominant  in  North  Africa,  and,  spurred 
on  by  Mahommedan  fanaticism,  subduing  parts  of  Europe. 
That  is  to  say,  besides  the  Egyptian  race,  which  became 
powerful  in  the  hot  and  dry  valley  of  the  Nile,  we  have 
three  races  widely  unlike  in  type,  which,  from  different  parts 
of  the  rainless  district  have  spread  over  regions  relatively 
humid.  Original  superiority  of  type  was  not  the 

common  trait  of  these  peoples:  the  Tartar  type  is  inferior, 
as  was  the  Egyptian.  But  the  common  trait,  as  proved  by 
subjugation  of  other  peoples,  was  energy.  And  when  we 
see  that  this  common  trait  in  kinds  of  men  otherwise  unlike, 
had  for  its  concomitant  their  long-continued  subjection  to 
these  special  climatic  conditions — when  we  find,  further, 
that  from  the  region  characterized  by  these  conditions,  the 
earlier  waves  of  conquering  emigrants,  losing  in  moister 
countries  their  ancestral  energy,  were  over-run  by  later 
waves  of  the  same  kind  of  men,  or  of  other  kinds,  coming 
from  this  region;  we  get  strong  reason  for  inferring  a  re- 


ORIGINAL  EXTERNAL  FACTORS.  23 

lation  between  constitutional  vigour  and  the  presence  of  an 
air  which,  by  its  warmth  and  dryness,  facilitates  the  vital 
actions.  A  striking  verification  is  at  hand.  The 

rain-map  of  the  New  World  shows  that  the  largest  of  the 
parts  distinguished  as  almost  rainless,  is  that  Central- Ameri- 
can and  Mexican  region  in  which  indigenous  civilizations 
developed;  and  that  the  only  other  rainless  district  is  that 
part  of  the  ancient  Peruvian  territory,  in  which  the  pre- 
Ynca  civilization  has  left  its  most  conspicuous  traces.  In- 
ductively, then,  the  evidence  justifies  in  a  remarkable  man- 
ner the  physiological  deduction.  Xor  are  there 
wanting  minor  verifications.  Speaking  of  the  varieties  of 
negroes,  Livingstone  says — "  Heat  alone  does  not  produce 
blackness  of  skin,  but  heat  with  moisture  seems  to  insure 
the  deepest  hue  " ;  and  Schweinf urth  remarks  on  the  rela- 
tive blackness  of  the  Denka  and  other  tribes  living  on  the 
alluvial  plains,  and  contrasts  them  with  "  the  less  swarthy 
and  more  robust  races  who  inhabit  the  rocky  hills  of  the 
interior  " :  differences  with  which  there  go  differences  of 
energy.  But  I  note  this  fact  for  the  purpose  of  suggesting 
its  probable  connexion  with  the  fact  that  the  lighter-skinned 
races  are  habitually  the  dominant  races.  We  see  it  to  have 
been  so  in  Egypt.  It  was  so  with  the  races  spreading  south 
from  Central  Asia.  Traditions  imply  that  it  was  so  in  Cen- 
tral America  and  Peru.  Speke  says : — "  I  have  always 
found  the  lighter-coloured  savages  more  boisterous  and  war- 
like than  those  of  a  dingier  hue."  And  if,  heat  being  the 
same,  darkness  of  skin  accompanies  humidity  of  the  air, 
while  lightness  of  skin  accompanies  dryness  of  the  air,  then, 
in  this  habitual  predominance  of  the  fair  varieties  of  men, 
we  find  further  evidence  that  constitutional  activity,  and 
in  so  far  social  development,  is  favoured  by  a  climate  con- 
ducing to  rapid  evaporation. 

I  do  not  mean  that  the  energy  thus  resulting  determines, 
of  itself,  higher  social  development :  this  is  neither  implied 
deductively  nor  shown  inductively.  But  greater  energy, 


24  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

making  easy  the  conquest  of  less  active  races  and  the  usurpa- 
tion of  their  richer  and  more  varied  habitats,  also  makes 
possible  a  better  utilization  of  such  habitats. 

§  17.  On  passing  from  climate  to  surface,  we  have  to 
note,  first,  the  effects  of  its  configuration,  as  favouring  or 
hindering  social  integration. 

That  the  habits  of  hunters  or  nomads  may  be  changed 
into  those  required  for  settled  life,  the  surface  occupied  must 
be  one  within  which  coercion  is  easy,  and  beyond  which  the 
difficulties  of  existence  are  great.  The  unconquerableness 
of  mountain  tribes,  difficult  to  get  at,  has  been  in  many 
times  and  in  many  places  exemplified.  Instance  the  Illyri- 
ans,  who  remained  independent  of  the  adjacent  Greeks,  gave 
trouble  to  the  Macedonians,  and  mostly  recovered  their  in- 
dependence after  the  death  of  Alexander;  instance  the 
Montenegrins;  instance  the  Swiss;  instance  the  people  of 
the  Caucasus.  The  inhabitants  of  desert-tracts,  as  well  as 
those  of  mountain-tracts,  are  difficult  to  consolidate :  facility 
of  escape,  joined  with  ability  to  live  in  sterile  regions,  greatly 
hinder  social  subordination.  Within  our  own 

island,  surfaces  otherwise  widely  unlike  have  similarly 
hindered  political  integration,  when  their  physical  traits 
have  made  it  difficult  to  reach  their  occupants.  The  his- 
tory of  Wales  shows  us  how,  within  that  mountainous  dis- 
trict itself,  subordination  to  one  ruler  was  hard  to  establish; 
and  still  more  how  hard  it  was  to  bring  the  whole  under  the 
central  power:  from  the  Old-English  period  down  to  1400, 
eight  centuries  of  resistance  passed  before  the  subjugation 
was  complete,  and  a  further  interval  before  the  final  incor- 
poration with  England.  The  Fens,  in  the  earliest  times  a 
haunt  of  marauders  and  of  those  who  escaped  from  estab- 
lished power,  became,  at  the  time  of  the  Conquest,  the  last 
refuge  of  the  still-resisting  English;  who,  for  many  years, 
maintained  their  freedom  in  this  tract,  made  almost  inac- 
cessible by  morasses.  The  prolonged  independence  of  the 


ORIGINAL  EXTERNAL  FACTORS.  25 

Highland  clans,  who  were  subjugated  only  after  General 
Wade's  roads  put  their  refuges  within  reach,  yields  a  later 
proof.  Conversely,  social  integration  is  easy  with- 

in a  territory  which,  while  able  to  support  a  large  popula- 
tion, affords  facilities  for  coercing  the  units  of  that  popula- 
tion: especially  if  it  is  bounded  by  regions  offering  little 
sustenance,  or  peopled  by  enemies,  or  both.  Egypt  fulfilled 
these  conditions  in  a  high  degree.  Governmental  force  was 
unimpeded  by  physical  obstacles  within  the  occupied  area; 
and  escape  from  it  into  the  adjacent  desert  involved  either 
starvation  or  robbery  and  enslavement  by  wandering  hordes. 
Then  in  small  areas  surrounded  by  the  sea,  such  as  the  Sand- 
wich Islands,  Tahiti,  Tonga,  Samoa,  where  a  barrier  to 
flight  is  formed  by  a  desert  of  water  instead  of  a  desert  of 
sand,  the  requirements  are  equally  well  fulfilled.  Thus 
we  may  figuratively  say  that  social  integration  is  a  process 
of  welding,  which  can  be  effected  only  when  there  are  both 
pressure  and  difficulty  in  evading  that  pressure.  And 

here,  indeed,  we  are  reminded  how,  in  extreme  cases,  the 
nature  of  the  surface  permanently  determines  the  type  of 
social  Ufe  it  bears.  From  the  earliest  recorded  times,  arid 
tracts  in  the  East  have  been  peopled  by  Semitic  tribes  hav- 
ing an  adapted  social  type.  The  description  given  by  Hero- 
dotus of  the  Scythian's  mode  of  life  and  social  organization, 
is  substantially  the  same  as  that  given  of  the  Kalmucks  by 
Pallas.  Even  were  regions  fitted  for  nomads  to  have  their 
inhabitants  exterminated,  they  would  be  re-peopled  by  refu- 
gees from  neighbouring  settled  societies;  who  would  simi- 
larly be  compelled  to  wander,  and  would  similarly  acquire 
fit  forms  of  union.  There  is,  indeed,  a  modern  instance 
in  point:  not  exactly  of  a  re-genesis  of  an  adapted  social 
type,  but  of  a  genesis  de  navo.  Since  the  colonization  of 
South  America,  some  of  the  pampas  have  become  the  homes 
of  robber-tribes  like  Bedouins. 

Another  trait  of  the  inhabited  area  to  be  noted  as  in- 
fluential, is  its  degree  of  heterogeneity.    Other  things  equal, 


26  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

localities  that  are  uniform  in  structure  are  unfavourable  to 
social  progress.  Leaving  out  for  the  present  its  effects  on 
the  Flora  and  Fauna,  sameness  of  surface  implies  absence  of 
varied  inorganic  materials,  absence  of  varied  experiences, 
absence  of  varied  habits,  and,  therefore,  puts  obstacles  to  in- 
dustrial development  and  the  arts  of  life.  Neither  Central 
Asia,  nor  Central  Africa,  nor  the  central  region  of  either 
American  continent,  has  been  the  seat  of  an  indigenous 
civilization  of  any  height.  Regions  like  the  Russian  steppes, 
however  possible  it  may  be  to  carry  into  them  civilization 
elsewhere  developed,  are  regions  within  which  civilization  is 
not  likely  to  be  initiated;  because  the  differentiating  agen- 
cies are  insufficient.  When  quite  otherwise  caused,  uni- 
formity of  habitat  has  still  the  like  effect.  As  Professor 
Dana  asks  respecting  a  coral-island: — 

"How  many  of  the  various  arts  of  civilized  life  could  exist  in  a 
land  where  shells  are  the  only  cutting  instruments  .  .  .  fresh  water 
barely  enough  for  household  purposes, — no  streams,  nor  mountains, 
nor  hills  ?  How  much  of  the  poetry  and  literature  of  Europe  would 
be  intelligible  to  persons  whose  ideas  had  expanded  only  to  the  lim- 
its of  a  coral-island,  who  had  never  conceived  of  a  surface  of  land 
above  half  a  mile  in  breadth — of  a  slope  higher  than  a  beach?  or  of  a 
change  in  seasons  beyond  a  variation  in  the  prevalence  of  rain  ? " 

Contrariwise,  the  influences  of  geological  and  geographi- 
cal heterogeneity  in  furthering  social  development,  are  con- 
spicuous. Though,  considered  absolutely,  the  Nile-valley  is 
not  physically  multiform,  yet  it  is  multiform  in  comparison 
with  surrounding  tracts;  and  it  presents  that  which  seems 
the  most  constant  antecedent  to  civilization — the  juxtaposi- 
tion of  land  and  water.  Though  the  Babylonians  and  As- 
syrians had  habitats  that  were  not  specially  varied,  yet 
they  were  more  varied  than  the  riverless  regions  lying  East 
and  West.  The  strip  of  territory  in  which  the  Phoenician 
society  arose,  had  a  relatively-extensive  coast;  many  rivers 
furnishing  at  their  mouths  sites  for  the  chief  cities;  plains 
and  valleys  running  inland,  with  hills  between  them  and 


ORIGINAL  EXTERNAL  FACTORS.  27 

mountains  beyond  them.  Still  more  does  heterogeneity  dis- 
tinguish the  area  in  which  the  Greek  society  evolved:  it  is 
varied  in  its  multitudinous  and  complex  distributions  of  land 
and  sea,  in  its  contour  of  surface,  in  its  soil.  "  No  part  of 
Europe — perhaps  it  would  not  be  too  much  to  say  no  part  of 
the  world — presents  so  great  a  variety  of  natural  features 
within  the  same  area  as  Greece."  The  Greeks  themselves, 
indeed,  observed  the  effects  of  local  circumstances  in  so  far 
as  unlikeness  between  coast  and  interior  goes.  As  says 
Mr.  Grote: — 

"  The  ancient  philosophers  and  legislators  were  deeply  impressed 
•with  the  contrast  between  an  inland  and  a  maritime  city  :  in  the 
former  simplicity  and  uniformity  of  life,  tenacity  of  ancient  habits 
and  dislike  of  what  is  new  and  foreign,  great  force  of  exclusive  sym- 
pathy and  narrow  range  both  of  objects  and  ideas :  in  the  latter,  vari- 
ety and  novelty  of  sensations,  expansive  imagination,  toleration  and 
occasional  preference  for  extraneous  customs,  greater  activity  of  the 
individual  and  corresponding  mutability  of  the  state." 

Though  the  differences  here  described  are  mainly  due  to 
absence  and  presence  of  foreign  intercourse;  yet,  since  this 
itself  is  dependent  on  the  local  relations  of  land  and  sea, 
these  relations  must  be  recognized  as  primary  causes  of 
the  differences.  Just  observing  that  in  Italy  likewise,  civi- 
lization found  a  seat  of  considerable  complexity,  geological 
and  geographical,  we  may  pass  to  the  New  "World,  where  we 
see  the  same  thing.  Central  America,  which  was  the  source 
of  its  indigenous  civilizations,  is  characterized  by  compara- 
tive multiformity.  So,  too,  with  Mexico  and  with  Peru. 
The  Mexican  tableland,  surrounded  by  mountains,  contained 
many  lakes:  that  of  Tezcuco,  with  its  islands  and  shores, 
being  the  seat  of  Government ;  and  through  Peru,  varied  in 
surface,  the  Ynca-power  spread  from  the  mountainous  isl- 
ands of  the  large,  irregular,  elevated  lake,  Titicaca. 

How  soil  affects  progress  remains  to  be  observed.  The 
belief  that  easy  obtainment  of  food  is  unfavourable  to  social 
evolution,  while  not  without  an  element  of  truth,  is  by  no 


28  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

means  true  as  currently  accepted.  The  semi-civilized  peo- 
ples of  the  Pacific — the  Sandwich  Islanders,  Tahitians,  Ton- 
gans,  Samoans,  Fijians — show  us  considerable  advances 
made  in  places  where  great  productiveness  renders  life  un- 
laborious.  In  Sumatra,  where  rice  yields  80  to  140  fold, 
and  in  Madagascar,  where  it  yields  50  to  100  fold,  social 
development  has  not  been  insignificant.  Kaffirs,  inhabit- 
ing a  tract  having  rich  and  extensive  pasturage,  contrast 
favourably,  both  individually  and  socially,  with  neighbour- 
ing races  occupying  regions  that  are  relatively  unproduc- 
tive; and  those  parts  of  Central  Africa  in  which  the  in- 
digenes have  made  most  social  progress,  as  Ashantee  and 
Dahomey,  have  luxuriant  vegetations.  Indeed,  if  wre  call 
to  mind  the  Kile-valley,  and  the  exceptionally-fertilizing 
process  it  is  subject  to,  we  see  that  the  most  ancient  social 
development  known  to  us,  began  in  a  region  which,  fulfill- 
ing other  requirements,  was  also  characterized  by  great 
natural  productiveness. 

And  here,  with  respect  to  fertility,  we  may  recognize  a 
truth  allied  to  that  which  we  recognized  in  respect  to  cli- 
mate ;  namely,  that  the  earlier  stages  of  social  evolution  are 
possible  only  where  the  resistances  to  be  overcome  are  small. 
As  those  arts  of  life  by  which  loss  of  heat  is  prevented,  must 
be  considerably  advanced  before  relatively-inclement  re- 
gions can  be  well  peopled;  so,  the  agricultural  arts  must 
be  considerably  advanced  before  the  less  fertile  tracts  can 
support  populations  large  enough  for  civilization.  And 
since  arts  of  every  kind  develop  only  as  societies  progress  in 
size  and  structure,  it  follows  that  there  must  be  societies 
having  habitats  where  abundant  food  can  be  procured  by 
inferior  arts,  before  there  can  arise  the  arts  required  for 
dealing  with  less  productive  habitats.  While  yet  low  and 
feeble,  societies  can  survive  only  where  the  circumstances 
are  least  trying.  The  ability  to  survive  where  circum- 
stances are  more  trying  can  be  possessed  only  by  the  higher 
and  stronger  societies  descending  from  these;  and  inherit- 


ORIGINAL  EXTERNAL  FACTORS.  29 

ing  their  acquired   organization,   appliances,   and  knowl- 
edge. 

It  should  be  added  that  variety  of  soil  is  a  factor  of  im- 
portance ;  since  this  helps  to  cause  that  multiplicity  of  vege- 
tal products  which  largely  aids  social  progress.  In  sandy 
Damara-land,  where  four  kinds  of  mimosas  exclude  nearly 
every  other  kind  of  tree  or  bush,  it  is  clear  that,  apart  from 
further  obstacles  to  progress,  paucity  of  materials  must  be 
a  great  one.  But  here  we  verge  upon  another  order  of 
factors. 

§  18.  The  character  of  its  Flora  affects  in  a  variety  of 
ways  the  fitness  of  a  habitat  for  supporting  a  society.  At 
the  chief  of  these  we  must  glance. 

Some  of  the  Esquimaux  have  no  wood  at  all;  while 
others  have  only  that  which  comes  to  them  as  ocean-drift. 
By  using  snow  or  ice  to  build  their  houses,  and  by  the  shifts 
they  are  put  to  in  making  cups  of  seal-skin,  fishing-lines 
and  nets  of  whalebone,  and  even  bows  of  bone  or  horn, 
these  people  show  us  how  greatly  advance  in  the  arts  of  life 
is  hindered  by  lack  of  fit  vegetal  products.  With  this  Arctic 
race,  too,  as  also  with  the  nearly  Antarctic  Euegians,  we  see 
that  the  absence  or  extreme  scarcity  of  useful  plants  is  an 
insurmountable  impediment  to  social  progress.  Evidence 
better  than  that  furnished  by  these  regions  (where  extreme 
cold  is  a  coexisting  hindrance)  comes  from  Australia; 
where,  in  a  climate  that  is  on  the  whole  favourable,  the 
paucity  of  plants  available  for  the  purposes  of  life  has  been 
a  part-cause  of  continued  arrest  at  the  lowest  stage  of  bar- 
barism. Large  tracts  of  it,  supporting  but  one  inhabitant 
to  sixty  square  miles,  admit  of  no  approach  to  that  populous- 
ness  which  is  a  needful  antecedent  to  civilization. 

Conversely,  after  observing  how  growth  of  population, 
making  social  advance  possible,  is  furthered  by  abundance 
of  vegetal  products,  we  may  observe  how  variety  of  vegetal 
products  conduces  to  the  same  effect.  Kot  only  in  the  cases 


30  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

of  the  slightly-developed  societies  occupying  regions  covered 
by  a  heterogeneous  Flora,  do  we  see  that  dependence  on 
many  kinds  of  roots,  fruits,  cereals,  etc.,  is  a  safeguard 
against  the  famines  caused  by  failure  of  any  single  crop; 
but  we  see  that  the  materials  furnished  by  a  heterogeneous 
Flora,  make  possible  a  multiplication  of  appliances,  a  conse- 
quent advance  of  the  arts,  and  an  accompanying  develop- 
ment of  skill  and  intelligence.  The  Tahitians  have  on  their 
islands,  fit  woods  for  the  frameworks  and  roofs  of  houses, 
with  palm-leaves  for  thatch ;  there  are  plants  yielding  fibres 
out  of  which  to  twist  cords,  fishing-lines,  matting,  etc. ;  the 
tapa-bark,  duly  prepared,  furnishes  a  cloth  for  their  various 
articles  of  dress;  they  have  cocoa-nuts  for  cups,  etc.,  mate- 
rials for  baskets,  sieves,  and  various  domestic  implements; 
they  have  plants  giving  them  scents  for  their  unguents, 
flowers  for  their  wreaths  and  necklaces ;  they  have  dyes  for 
stamping  patterns  on  their  dresses — all  besides  the  various 
foods,  bread-fruit,  taro,  yams,  sweet-potatoes,  arrow-root, 
fern-root,  cocoa-nuts,  plantains,  bananas,  jambo,  ti-root, 
sugar-cane,  etc. :  enabling  them  to  produce  numerous  made 
dishes.  And  the  utilization  of  all  these  materials  implies  a 
culture  which  in  various  ways  furthers  social  advance.  Kin- 
dred results  from  like  causes  have  arisen  among  an  ad- 
jacent people,  widely  unlike  in  character  and  political 
organization.  In  a  habitat  characterized  by  a  like  variety 
of  vegetal  products,  those  ferocious  cannibals  the  Fijians, 
have  developed  their  arts  to  a  degree  comparable  with  that 
of  the  Tahitians,  and  have  a  division  of  labour  and  a  com- 
mercial organization  that  are  even  superior.  Among  the 
thousand  species  of  indigenous  plants  in  the  Fiji  Islands, 
there  are  such  as  furnish  materials  for  all  purposes,  from  the 
building  of  war-canoes  carrying  300  men  down  to  the  mak- 
ing of  dyes  and  perfumes.  It  may,  indeed,  be  urged  that 
the  New  Zealanders,  exhibiting  a  social  development  akin 
to  that  reached  in  Tahiti  and  Fiji,  had  a  habitat  of  which 
the  indigenous  Flora  was  not  varied.  But  the  reply  is  that 


ORIGINAL  EXTERNAL  FACTORS.  31 

both  by  their  language  and  their  mythology,  the  New  Zea- 
landers  are  shown  to  have  separated  from  other  Malayo- 
Polynesians  after  the  arts  of  life  had  been  considerably  ad- 
vanced; and  that  they  brought  these  arts  (as  well  as  some 
cultivated  plants)  to  a  region  which,  though  poor  in  edible 
plants,  supplied  in  abundance  plants  otherwise  useful. 

As  above  hinted,  mere  luxuriance  of  vegetation  is  in  some 
cases  a  hindrance  to  progress.  Even  that  inclement  region 
inhabited  by  the  Fuegians,  is,  strange  to  say,  made  worse  by 
the  dense  growth  of  useless  underwood  which  clothes  the 
rocky  hills.  Living  though  they  do  under  conditions  other- 
wise so  different,  the  Andamanese,  too,  are  restricted  to  the 
borders  of  the  sea,  by  the  impenetrable  thickets  which  cover 
the  land.  Indeed  various  equatorial  regions,  made  almost 
useless  even  to  the  semi-civilized  by  jungle  and  tangled 
forest,  were  utterly  useless  to  the  aborigines,  who  had  no 
tools  for  clearing  the  ground.  The  primitive  man,  possess- 
ing rude  stone  implements  only,  found  but  few  parts  of  the 
Earth's  surface  which,  neither  too  barren  nor  bearing  too 
luxuriant  a  vegetation,  were  available :  so  again  reminding 
us  that  rudimentary  societies  are  at  the  mercy  of  environing 
conditions. 

§  19.  There  remains  to  be  treated  the  Fauna  of  the  re- 
gion inhabited.  Evidently  this  affects  greatly  both  the 
degree  of  social  growth  and  the  type  of  that  growth. 

The  presence  or  absence  of  wild  animals  fit  for  food,  in- 
fluential as  it  is  in  determining  the  kind  of  individual  life, 
is  therefore  influential  in  determining  the  kind  of  social 
organization.  Where,  as  in  North  America,  there  existed 
game  enough  to  support  the  aboriginal  races,  hunting  con- 
tinued the  dominant  activity ;  and  a  partially-nomadic  habit 
being  entailed  by  migrations  after  game,  there  was  a  per- 
sistent impediment  to  agriculture,  to  increase  of  population, 
and  to  industrial  development.  We  have  but  to  consider 
the  antithetical  case  of  the  various  Polynesian  races,  and  to 


32  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

observe  how,  in  the  absence  of  a  considerable  land-Fauna, 
they  have  been  forced  into  agriculture  with  its  concomitant 
settled  life,  larger  population,  and  advanced  arts,  to  see  how 
great  an  effect  the  kind  and  amount  of  utilizable  animal-life 
has  on  civilization.  When  we  glance  at  that  pas- 

toral type  of  society  which,  still  existing,  has  played  in  past 
times  an  important  part  in  human  progress,  we  again  see 
that  over  wide  regions  the  indigenous  Fauna  has  been  chiefly 
influential  in  fixing  the  form  of  social  union.  On  the  one 
hand,  in  the  absence  of  herbivores  admitting  of  domestica- 
tion— horses,  camels,  oxen,  sheep,  goats — the  pastoral  life 
followed  by  the  three  great  conquering  races  in  their  orig- 
inal habitats,  would  have  been  impossible;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  this  kind  of  life  was  inconsistent  with  that  forma- 
tion of  larger  settled  unions  which  is  needed  for  the  higher 
social  relations.  On  recalling  the  cases  of  the  Laplanders 
with  their  reindeer  and  dogs,  the  Tartars  with  their  horses 
and  cattle,  and  the  South  Americans  with  their  llamas  and 
guinea-pigs,  it  becomes  obvious,  too,  that  in  various  cases 
this  nature  of  the  Fauna,  joined  with  that  of  the  surface, 
still  continues  to  be  a  cause  of  arrest  at  a  certain  stage  of 
evolution. 

While  the  Fauna  as  containing  an  abundance  or  scarcity 
of  creatures  useful  to  man  is  an  important  factor,  it  is  also 
an  important  factor  as  containing  an  abundance  or  scarcity 
of  injurious  creatures.  The  presence  of  the  larger  carnivores 
is,  in  some  places,  a  serious  impediment  to  social  life;  as  in 
Sumatra,  where  villages  are  not  uncommonly  depopulated 
by  tigers;  as  in  India,  where  "  a  single  tigress  caused  the 
destruction  of  13  villages,  and  250  square  miles  of  country 
were  thrown  out  of  cultivation,"  and  where  "  in  1869  one 
tigress  killed  127  people,  and  stopped  a  public  road  for  many 
weeks."  Indeed  we  need  but  recall  the  evils  once  suffered 
in  England  from  wolves,  and  those  still  suffered  in  some 
parts  of  Europe,  to  see  that  freedom  to  carry  on  out-door 
occupations  and  intercourse,  \vhich  is  among  the  conditions 


ORIGINAL  EXTERNAL  FACTORS.  33 

to  social  advance,  may  be  hindered  by  predatory  animals. 
Nor  must  we  forget  how  greatly  agriculture  is  occasionally 
interfered  with  by  reptiles;  as,  again,  in  India,  where  over 
25,000  persons  die  of  snake-bite  annually.  To  which  evils 
directly  inflicted  by  the  higher  animals,  must  be  added  the 
indirect  evils  which  they  join  insects  in  inflicting,  by  de- 
stroying crops.  Sometimes  injuries  of  this  last  kind  con- 
siderably affect  the  mode  of  individual  life  and  consequently 
of  social  life;  as  in  Kaffirland,  where  crops  are  subject  to 
great  depredations  from  mammals,  birds,  and  insects,  and 
where  the  transformation  of  the  pastoral  state  into  a  higher 
state  is  thus  discouraged;  or  as  in  the  Bechuana-country, 
which,  while  "  peopled  with  countless  herds  of  game,  is 
sometimes  devastated  by  swarms  of  locusts."  Clearly, 
where  the  industrial  tendencies  are  feeble,  uncertainty  in 
getting  a  return  for  labour  must  hinder  the  development  of 
them,  and  cause  reversion  to  older  modes  of  life,  if  these 
can  still  be  pursued. 

Many  other  mischiefs,  caused  especially  by  insects,  seri- 
ously interfere  with  social  progress.  Even  familiar  expe- 
riences in  Scotland,  where  the  midges  sometimes  drive  one 
indoors,  show  how  greatly  "  the  plague  of  flies  "  must,  in 
tropical  regions,  impede  outdoor  labour.  Where,  as  on  the 
Orinoco,  the  morning  salutation  is — "  How  are  we  to-day  for 
the  mosquitos?  "  and  where  the  torment  is  such  that  a  priest 
could  not  believe  Humboldt  voluntarily  submitted  to  it 
merely  that  he  might  see  the  country,  the  desire  for  relief 
must  often  out-balance  the  already-feeble  motive  to  work. 
Even  the  effects  of  flies  on  cattle  indirectly  modify  social 
life ;  as  among  the  Kirghiz,  who,  in  May,  when  the  steppes 
are  covered  with  rich  pasture,  are  obliged  by  the  swarms  of 
flies  to  take  their  herds  to  the  mountains;  or  as  in  Africa, 
where  the  tsetse  negatives  the  pastoral  occupation  in  some 
localities.  And  then,  in  other  cases,  great  discouragement 
results  from  the  termites,  which,  in  parts  of  East  Africa,  con- 
sume dress,  furniture,  beds,  etc.  "  A  man  may  be  rich  to-day 


34  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

and  poor  to-morrow,  from  the  ravages  of  the  white  ants," 
said  a  Portuguese  merchant  to  Livingstone.  Nor  is  this  all. 
Humboldt  remarks  that  where  the  termites  destroy  all  docu- 
ments, there  can  be  no  advanced  civilization. 

Thus  there  is  a  close  relation  between  the  type  of  social 
life  indigenous  in  a  locality,  and  the  character  of  the  in- 
digenous Fauna.  The  presence  or  absence  of  useful  species, 
and  the  presence  or  absence  of  injurious  species,  have  their 
favouring  and  hindering  effects.  And  there  is  not  only  so 
produced  a  furtherance  or  retardation  of  social  progress, 
generally  considered,  but  there  is  produced  more  or  less 
speciality  in  the  structures  and  activities  of  the  community. 

§  20.  To  describe  fully  these  original  external  factors 
is  out  of  the  question.  An  approximately-complete  account 
of  the  classes  characterized  above,  would  be  a  work  of  years; 
and  there  would  have  to  be  added  many  environing  con- 
ditions not  yet  indicated. 

Effects  of  differences  in  degree  and  distribution  of  light, 
as  illustrated  by  the  domesticity  and  culture  which  the 
Arctic  night  causes  among  the  Icelanders,  would  have  to  be 
treated ;  as  also  the  minor  effects  due  to  greater  or  less  bril- 
liancy of  ordinary  daylight  in  sunny  and  cloudy  climates 
on  the  mental  states,  and  therefore  on  the  actions,  of  the 
inhabitants.  The  familiar  fact  that  habitual  fineness  of 
weather  and  habitual  inclemency,  lead  respectively  to  out- 
door social  intercourse  and  in-door  family-life,  and  so  in- 
fluence the  characters  of  citizens,  would  have  to  be  taken 
into  account.  So,  too,  would  the  modifications  of  ideas  and 
feelings  wrought  by  imposing  meteorologic  and  geologic 
phenomena.  And  beyond  the  effects,  made  much  of  by  Mr. 
Buckle,  which  these  produce  on  men's  imaginations,  and 
consequently  on  their  behaviour,  there  would  have  to  be 
noted  their  effects  of  other  orders:  as,  for  instance,  those 
which  frequent  earthquakes  have  on  the  type  of  architec- 
ture— causing  a  preference  for  houses  that  are  low  and 


ORIGINAL  EXTERNAL  FACTORS.  35 

slight;  and  so  modifying  both  the  domestic  arrangements 
and  the  aesthetic  culture.  Again,  the  character  of  the  fuel 
which  a  locality  yields  has  consequences  that  ramify  in  vari- 
ous directions;  as  we  see  in  the  contrast  between  our  own 
coal-burning  London,  with  its  blackened  gloomy  streets,  and 
the  wood-burning  cities  of  the  continent,  where  general 
lightness  and  bright  colours  induce  a  different  state  of  feel- 
ing having  different  results.  How  the  mineralogy  of  a  re- 
gion acts,  scarcely  needs  pointing  out.  Entire  absence  of 
metals  may  cause  local  persistence  of  the  stone-age;  pres- 
ence of  copper  may  initiate  advance ;  presence  or  proximity 
of  tin,  rendering  bronze  possible,  may  cause  a  further  step ; 
and  if  there  are  iron-ores,  a  still  further  step  may  presently 
be  taken.  So,  too,  the  supply  or  lack  of  lime  for  mortar, 
affects  the  sizes  and  types  of  buildings,  private  and  public; 
and  thus  influences  domestic  and  social  habits,  as  well  as  art- 
progress.  Even  down  to  such  a  minor  peculiarity  as  the  pres- 
ence of  hot  springs,  which  in  ancient  Central  America  initi- 
ated a  local  manufacture  of  pottery,  there  would  have  to 
be  traced  the  influence  of  each  physical  condition  in  deter- 
mining the  prevailing  industry,  and  therefore,  in  part,  the 
social  organization. 

But  a  detailed  account  of  the  original  external  factors, 
whether  of  the  more  important  kinds  outlined  in  the  pre- 
ceding pages  or  of  the  less  important  kinds  just  exemplified, 
pertains  to  Special  Sociology.  Any  one  who,  carrying  with 
him  the  general  principles  of  the  science,  undertook  to  inter- 
pret the  evolution  of  each  society,  would  have  to  describe 
completely  these  many  local  causes  in  their  various  kinds 
and  degrees.  Such  an  undertaking  must  be  left  for  the 
sociologists  of  the  future. 

§  21.  Here  my  purpose  has  been  to  give  general  ideas 
of  the  original  external  factors,  in  their  different  classes  and 
orders;  so  as  to  impress  on  the  reader  the  truth,  barely 
enunciated  in  the  preceding  chapter,  that  the  characters  of 


36  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

the  environment  co-operate  with  the  characters  of  human 
beings  in  determining  social  phenomena. 

One  result  of  enumerating  these  original  external  factors 
and  observing  the  parts  they  play,  has  been  that  of  bringing 
into  view  the  fact,  that  the  earlier  stages  of  social  evolution 
are  far  more  dependent  on  local  conditions  than  the  later 
stages.  Though  societies  such  as  we  are  now  most  familiar 
with,  highly  organized,  rich  in  appliances,  advanced  in 
knowledge,  can,  by  the  help  of  various  artifices,  thrive  in 
unfavorable  habitats;  yet  feeble,  unorganized  societies  can- 
not do  so.  They  are  at  the  mercy  of  their  surroundings. 

Moreover  we  thus  find  answers  to  the  questions  some- 
times raised  in  opposition  to  the  doctrine  of  social  evolution 
— How  does  it  happen  that  so  many  tribes  of  savages  have 
made  no  manifest  progress  during  the  long  period  over 
which  human  records  extend?  And  if  it  is  true  that  the 
human  race  existed  during  the  later  geologic  periods,  why, 
for  100,000  years  or  more,  did  no  traceable  civilization  re- 
sult? To  these  questions,  I  say,  adequate  replies  are  fur- 
nished. When,  glancing  over  the  classes  and  orders  of 
original  external  factors  above  set  down,  we  observe  how 
rare  is  that  combination  of  favourable  ones  joined  with  ab- 
sence of  unfavourable  ones,  by  which  alone  the  germs  of 
societies  can  be  fostered — when  we  remember  that  in  pro- 
portion as  the  appliances  are  few  and  rude,  the  knowledge 
small,  and  the  co-operation  feeble,  the  establishment  of  any 
improvement  in  face  of  surrounding  difficulties  must  take 
a  long  time — when  we  remember  that  this  helplessness  of 
primitive  social  groups  left  them  exposed  to  each  adverse 
change,  and  so  caused  repeated  losses  of  such  advances  as 
were  made;  it  becomes  easy  to  understand  why,  for  an 
enormous  period,  no  considerable  societies  were  evolved. 

But  now  having  made  this  general  survey  of  the  original 
external  factors,  and  drawn  these  general  inferences,  we  may 
leave  all  detailed  consideration  of  them  as  not  further  con- 
cerning us.  For  in  dealing  with  the  Principles  of  Sociology, 


ORIGINAL   EXTERNAL  FACTORS.  37 

we  have  to  deal  with  facts  of  structure  and  function  dis- 
played by  societies  in  general,  dissociated,  so  far  as  may  be, 
from  special  facts  due  to  special  circumstances.  Hence- 
forth we  shall  occupy  ourselves  with  those  characters  of 
societies  which  depend  mainly  on  the  intrinsic  natures  of 
their  units,  rather  than  with  the  characters  determined  by 
particular  extrinsic  influences. 


CHAPTEK  IV. 

ORIGINAL    INTERNAL    FACTORS. 

§  22.  As  with  the  original  external  factors,  so  with  the 
original  internal  factors — an  adequate  account  of  them  sup- 
poses a  far  greater  knowledge  of  the  past  than  we  can  get. 
On  the  one  hand,  from  men's  bones,  and  objects  betraying 
men's  actions,  found  in  recent  strata  and  in  cave-deposits, 
dating  back  to  periods  since  which  there  have  been  great 
changes  of  climate  and  re-distributions  of  land  and  sea,  we 
must  infer  that  the  habitats  of  tribes  have  been  ever  under- 
going modifications ;  though  what  modifications  we  can  but 
vaguely  guess.  On  the  other  hand,  alterations  of  habitats 
imply  in  the  races  subject  to  them  adaptive  changes  of  func- 
tion and  structure;  respecting  most  of  which  we  can  know 
little  more  than  their  occurrence. 

Such  fragmentary  evidence  as  we  have  does  not  warrant 
definite  conclusions  respecting  the  ways  and  degrees  in 
which  men  of  the  remote  past  differed  from  men  now  exist- 
ing. There  are,  indeed,  remains  which,  taken  alone,  indi- 
cate inferiority  of  type  in  ancestral  races.  The  Neanderthal- 
skull  and  others  like  it,  with  their  enormous  supra-orbital 
ridges  so  simian  in  character,  are  among  these.  There  is  also 
the  skull  lately  found  by  Mr.  Gillman,  in  a  mound  on  the 
Detroit  river,  Michigan,  and  described  by  him  as  chimpan- 
zee-like in  the  largeness  of  the  areas  over  which  the  tem- 
poral muscles  were  inserted.  But  as  this  remarkable  skull 

was  found  along  with  others  that  were  not  remarkable,  and 

38 


ORIGINAL  INTERNAL  FACTORS  39 

as  such  skulls  as  that  from  the  cave  in  the  Neanderthal  are 
not  proved  to  be  of  more  ancient  date  than  skulls  which 
deviate  little  from  common  forms,  no  decisive  inferences 
can  be  drawn.  A  kindred,  but  perhaps  a  more 

positive,  statement,  may  be  made  respecting  that  compres- 
sion of  the  tibiae  in  certain  ancient  races,  which  is  expressed 
by  the  epithet  "  platycnemic."  First  pointed  out  by  Prof. 
Busk  and  Dr.  Falconer,  as  characterizing  the  men  who  left 
their  bones  in  the  caves  of  Gibraltar,  this  peculiarity,  shortly 
afterwards  discovered  by  M.  Broca  in  the  remains  of  cave- 
men in  France,  was  observed  afresh  by  Mr.  Busk  in  remains 
from  caves  in  Denbighshire;  and  more  recently  Mr.  Gill- 
man  has  shown  that  it  is  a  trait  of  tibiae  found  along  with 
the  rudest  stone-implements  in  mounds  on  the  St.  Claire 
river,  Michigan.  As  this  trait  is  not  known  to  distinguish 
any  races  now  living,  while  it  existed  in  races  which  lived 
in  localities  so  far  apart  as  Gibraltar,  France,  Wales,  and 
North  America,  we  must  infer  that  an  ancient  race,  dis- 
tributed over  a  wide  area,  was  in  so  far  unlike  races  which 
have  survived. 

Two  general  conclusions  only  seem  warranted  by  the 
facts  at  present  known.  The  first  is  that  in  remote  epochs 
there  were,  as  there  are  now,  varieties  of  men  distinguished 
by  differences  of  osseous  structure  considerable  in  degree, 
and  probably  by  other  differences;  and  the  second  is,  that 
some  traits  of  brutality  and  inferiority  exhibited  in  certain 
of  these  ancient  varieties,  have  either  disappeared  or  now 
occur  only  as  unusual  variations. 

§  23.  So  that  about  the  original  internal  factors,  taken 
in  that  comprehensive  sense  which  includes  the  traits  of  pre- 
historic man,  we  can  ascertain  little  that  helps  us.  Still  we 
may  fairly  draw  from  the  researches  of  geologists  and 
archaeologists  the  important  general  inferences  that  through- 
out long-past  periods,  as  since  the  commencement  of  his- 
tory, there  has  been  going  on  a  continuous  differentiation 


40  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

of  races,  a  continuous  over-running  of  the  less  powerful  or 
less  adapted  by  the  more  powerful  or  more  adapted,  a  driv- 
ing of  inferior  varieties  into  undesirable  habitats,  and,  oc- 
casionally, an  extermination  of  inferior  varieties. 

And  now,  carrying  with  us  this  dim  conception  of  primi- 
tive man  and  his  history,  we  must  be  content  to  give  it  what 
definition  we  may,  by  studying  those  existing  races  of  men 
which,  as  judged  by  their  visible  characters  and  their  im- 
plements, approach  most  nearly  to  primitive  man.  Instead 
of  including  in  one  chapter  all  the  classes  and  sub-classes  of 
traits  to  be  set  down,  it  will  be  most  convenient  to  group 
them  into  three  chapters.  We  will  take  first  the  physical, 
then  the  emotional,  lastly  the  intellectual. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    PRIMITIVE    MAN PHYSICAL. 

§  24.  IN  face  of  the  fact  that  the  uncivilized  races  in- 
clude the  Patagonians,  who  reach  some  six  to  seven  feet  in 
height,  while  in  Africa  there  still  exist  remnants  of  the 
barbarous  people  referred  to  by  Herodotus  as  pygmies,  we 
cannot  say  that  there  is  any  direct  relation  between  social 
state  and  stature.  Among  the  North- American  Indians 
there  are  hunting  races  decidedly  tall;  while,  elsewhere, 
there  are  stunted  hunting  races,  as  the  Bushmen.  Of  pas- 
toral peoples,  too,  some  are  short,  like  the  Kirghiz,  and  some 
are  well-grown,  like  the  Kaffirs.  And  there  are  kindred 
differences  among  races  of  agricultural  habits. 

Still,  the  evidence  taken  in  the  mass  implies  some  con- 
nexion between  barbarism  and  inferiority  of  size.  In  North 
America  the  Chinooks  and  sundry  neighbouring  tribes,  are 
described  as  low  in  stature;  and  the  Shoshones  are  said  to 
be  of  "  a  diminutive  stature."  Of  the  South  American  races 
it  is  asserted  that  the  Guiana  Indian  is  mostly  much  below 
5  ft.  5  in. ;  that  the  Arawaks  are  seldom  more  than  5  ft.  4  in. ; 
and  that  the  Guaranis  rarely  reach  5  ft.  So,  too,  is  it  with 
the  uncivilized  peoples  of  Northern  Asia.  The  Kirghiz 
average  5  ft.  3  or  4  in. ;  and  the  Kamschadales  "  are  in 
general  of  low  stature."  In  Southern  Asia  it  is  the  same. 
One  authority  describes,  generally,  the  Tamulian  aborigines 

of  India  as  smaller  than  the  Hindus.    Another,  writing  of 

41 


42  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

the  Hill-tribes,  says  of  the  Puttooas  that  the  men  do  not 
exceed  5  ft.  2  in.,  nor  the  women  4  ft.  4  in.  Another  esti- 
mates the  Lepchas  as  averaging  about  5  ft.  And  the  Juangs, 
perhaps  the  most  degraded  of  these  tribes,  are  set  down  as, 
males  less  than  5  ft.,  and  women  4  ft.  8  in.  But  this  con- 
nexion is  most  clearly  seen  on  grouping  the  very  lowest 
races.  Of  the  Fuegians  we  read  that  some  tribes  are  "  not 
more  than  5  ft.  high;  "  of  the  Andamanese,  that  the  men 
vary  from  4  ft.  10  in.  to  nearly  5  ft. ;  of  the  \reddahs,  that 
the  range  is  from  4  ft.  1  in.  to  5  ft.  3  in.— the  common 
height  being  4  ft.  9  in.  Again,  the  ordinary  height  of  the 
Bushmen  is  4  ft.  4-|  in.,  or,  according  to  Barrow,  4  ft.  6  in. 
for  the  average  man,  and  4  ft.  for  the  average  woman. 
"While  their  allies,  the  Akka,  are  said  by  Schweinfurth  to 
vary  from  4  ft.  1  in.  to  4  ft.  10  in. :  the  women,  whom  he 
did  not  see,  being  presumably  still  smaller. 

How  far  is  this  an  original  trait  of  inferior  races,  and 
how  far  is  it  a  trait  superinduced  by  the  unfavourable  habi- 
tats into  which  superior  races  have  driven  them?  The 
dwarfishness  of  Esquimaux  and  Laplanders  may  be  due 
partly,  if  not  wholly,  to  the  great  physiological  cost  of  living 
entailed  by  the  rigorous  climate  they  have  to  bear;  and  it 
no  more  shows  the  dwarfishness  of  primitive  men  than  does 
the  small  size  of  Shetland  ponies  show  that  primitive  horses 
were  small.  So,  too,  in  the  case  of  the  Bushmen,  who  are 
wanderers  in  a  territory  "  of  so  barren  and  arid  a  character, 
that  by  far  the  greater  portion  of  it  is  not  permanently  hab- 
itable by  any  class  of  human  beings,"  it  is  supposable  that 
chronic  innutrition  has  produced  a  lower  standard  of  growth. 
Manifestly,  as  the  weaker  were  always  thrust  by  the  stronger 
into  the  worst  localities,  there  must  ever  have  been  a  tend- 
ency to  make  greater  any  original  differences  of  stature 
and  strength.  Hence  the  smallness  of  these  most  degraded 
men,  may  have  been  original;  or  it  may  have  been  ac- 
quired; or  it  may  have  been  partly  original  and  partly 
acquired.  In  one  case,  however,  I  learn  on  good 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— PHYSICAL.  43 

authority  that  the  low  stature  was  most  likely  original. 
Facts  do  not  justify  the  belief  that  the  Bushmen,  the  Akka, 
and  kindred  races  found  in  Africa,  are  dwarfed  varieties 
of  the  Negro  race;  but  suggest  the  belief  that  they  are 
remnants  of  a  race  which  the  Negroes  dispossessed.  And 
this  conclusion,  warranted  by  the  physical  differences,  is 
countenanced  by  general  probability  and  by  analogy.  With- 
out making  much  of  the  rumoured  dwarf -race  in  the  central 
parts  of  Madagascar,  or  of  that  in  the  interior  of  Borneo, 
it  suffices  to  recall  the  Hill-tribes  of  India,  which  are  sur- 
viving groups  of  the  indigenes  islanded  by  the  flood  of 
Aryans,  or  the  tribes  further  east,  similarly  islanded  by  the 
invading  Mongols,  or  the  Mantras  of  the  Malay-peninsula, 
to  see  that  this  process  has  probably  occurred  in  Africa ;  and 
that  these  tribes  of  diminutive  people  are  scattered  frag- 
ments of  a  people  originally  small,  and  not  dwarfed  by  con- 
ditions. 

Still,  other  evidence  may  be  cited  to  show  that  we  are 
not  justified  in  conceiving  primitive  man  as  decidedly  less 
than  man  of  developed  type.  The  Australians  who,  both 
individually  and  socially,  are  very  inferior,  reach  a  mod- 
erate stature ;  as  did  also  the  now-extinct  Tasmanians.  Nor 
do  the  bones  of  races  which  have  disappeared,  yield  manifest 
proof  that  pre-historic  man  was,  on  the  average,  much 
smaller  than  historic  man. 

We  shall  probably  be  safe  in  concluding  that  with  the 
human  race,  as  with  other  races,  size  is  but  one  trait  of 
higher  evolution,  which  may  or  may  not  coexist  with  other 
traits;  and  that,  within  certain  limits,  it  is  determined  by 
local  conditions,  which  here  favour  preservation  of  the 
larger,  and  elsewhere,  when  nothing  is  gained  by  size,  con- 
duce to  the  spread  of  a  smaller  variety  relatively  more  pro- 
lific. But  we  may  further  conclude  that  since,  in  the  con- 
flicts between  races,  superiority  of  size  gives  advantages, 
there  has  been  a  survival  of  the  larger,  which  has  told  where 
other  conditions  have  allowed:  implying  that  the  average 


44  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

primitive  man  was  somewhat  less  than  is  the  average  civil- 
ized man. 

§  25.  As  of  stature,  so  of  structure,  we  must  say  that  the 
contrast  is  not  marked.  Passing  over  smaller  distinctive 
traits  of  inferior  human  races,  such  as  the  deviation  in  the 
form  of  the  pelvis,  and  the  existence  of  solid  bone  where,  in 
the  civilized,  the  frontal  sinus  exists,  we  may  limit  ourselves 
to  traits  which  have  a  meaning  for  us. 

Men  of  rude  types  are  generally  jcharacterizediiby  rela- 
tively small  lower  limbs.  Pallas  describes  the  Ostyaks  as 
having  "  thin  and  slender  legs."  I  find  two  authorities  men- 
tioning the  "  short  legs  "  and  "  slender  legs  "  of  the  Kam- 
schadales.  So,  among  the  Hill-tribes  of  India,  Stewart  says 
the  Kookies  have  legs  "  short  in  comparison  to  the  length 
of  their  bodies,  and  their  arms  long."  Of  sundry  American 
races  the  like  is  remarked.  We  read  of  the  Chinooks  that 
they  have  "  small  and  crooked  "  legs;  of  the  Guaranis,  that 
their  "  arms  and  legs  are  relatively  short  and  thick;  "  and 
even  of  the  gigantic  Patagonians  it  is  asserted  that  "  their 
limbs  are  neither  so  muscular  nor  so  large-boned  as  their 
height  and  apparent  bulk  would  induce  one  to  suppose." 
This  truth  holds  in  Australia,  too.  Even  if  the  leg-bones 
of  Australians  are  equal  in  length  to  those  of  Europeans, 
it  is  unquestionable  that  their  legs  are  inferior  in  massive- 
ness.  Though  I  find  no  direct  statement  respecting  the 
Fuegians  under  this  head,  yet  since,  while  said  to  be  short, 
they  are  said  to  have  bodies  comparable  in  bulk  to  those 
of  higher  races,  it  is  inferable  that  their  deficiency  of  height 
results  from  the  shortness  of  their  legs.  Lastly,  the  Akka 
not  only  have  "  short,  bandy  legs,"  but,  though  agile,  their 
powers  of  locomotion  are  defective:  "  every  step  they  take 
is  accompanied  by  a  lurch;  "  and  Schweinfurth  describes 
the  one  who  was  with  him  for  many  months,  as  never  able 
to  carry  a  full  dish  without  spilling.  Those  remains  of  ex- 
tinct races  lately  referred  to,  seem  also  to  countenance  the 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— PHYSICAL.  45 

belief  that  the  primitive  man  was  characterized  by  lower 
limbs  inferior  to  our  own :  the  platycnemic  tibiae  once  char- 
acterizing tribes  of  mankind  which  were  so  widely  dis- 
persed, seem  to  imply  this.  While  recognizing  differences, 
we  may  fairly  say  that  this  trait  of  relatively-inferior  legs 
is  sufficiently  marked;  and  it  is  a  trait  which,  remotely 
simian,  is  also  repeated  by  the  child  of  the  civilized  man. 

That  the  balance  of  power  between  legs  and  arms,  orig- 
inally adapted  to  climbing  habits,  is  likely  to  have  been 
changed  in  the  course  of  progress,  is  manifest.  During  the 
conflicts  between  races,  an  advantage  must  have  been  gained 
by  those  having  legs  somewhat  more  developed  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  body  at  large.  I  do  not  mean  chiefly  an  advan- 
tage in  swiftness  or  agility;  I  mean  in  trials  of  strength  at 
close  quarters.  In  combat,  the  force  exerted  by  arms  and 
trunk  is  limited  by  the  ability  of  the  legs  to  withstand  the 
strain  thrown  on  them.  Hence,  apart  from  advantages  in 
locomotion,  the  stronger-legged  races  have  tended  to  become, 
other  things  equal,  dominant  races. 

Among  other  structural  traits  of  the  primitive  man 
which  we  have  to  note,  the  most  marked  is  the  larger  size 
of  the  jaws  and  teeth.  This  is  shown  not  simply  in  that 
prognathous  form  characterizing  various  inferior  races,  and, 
to  an  extreme  degree,  the  Akka,  but  it  is  shown  also  in  races 
otherwise  characterized:  even  ancient  British  skulls  have 
relatively-massive  jaws.  That  this  trait  is  connected  with 
the  eating  of  coarse  food,  hard,  tough,  and  often  uncooked, 
and  perhaps  also  with  the  greater  use  of  the  teeth  in  place  of 
tools,  as  we  see  our  own  boys  use  them,  is  fairly  inferable. 
Diminution  of  function  has  brought  diminution  of  size,  both 
of  the  jaws  and  of  the  attached  muscles.  Whence,  too,  as  a 
remoter  sequence,  that  diminution  of  the  zygomatic  arches 
through  which  these  muscles  pass:  producing  an  additional 
difference  of  outline  in  the  civilized  face. 

These  changes  are  noteworthy  as  illustrating,  unmistak- 
ably, the  reaction  which  social  development,  with  all  the 


46  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

appliances  it  brings,  has  on  the  structure  of  the  social  unit. 
And  recognizing  the  externally- visible  changes  arising  from 
this  cause,  we  can  the  less  doubt  the  occurrence  of  internal 
changes,  as  of  brain,  arising  from  the  same  cause. 

§  26.  One  further  morphological  trait  may  be  dealt  with 
in  immediate  connexion  with  physiological  traits.  I  refer  to 
the  size  of  the  digestive  organs. 

Here  we  have  little  beyond  indirect  evidence.  In  the 
absence  of  some  conspicuous  modification  of  figure  caused  by 
large  stomach  and  intestines,  this  character  is  one  not  likely 
to  have  been  noticed  by  travellers.  Still,  we  have  some 
facts  to  the  point.  The  Kamschadales  are  described  as 
having  "  a  hanging  belly,  slender  legs  and  arms."  Of  the 
Bushmen,  Barrow  writes,  "  their  bellies  are  uncommonly 
protuberant/'  Schweinfurth  speaks  of  the  "  large,  bloated 
belly  and  short,  bandy  legs  "  of  the  Akka;  and  elsewhere, 
describing  the  structure  of  this  degraded  type  of  man,  he 
says — "  The  superior  region  of  the  chest  is  flat,  and  much 
contracted,  but  it  widens  out  below  to  support  the  huge  hang- 
ing belly."  Indirect  evidence  is  supplied  by  the 
young,  alike  of  civilized  and  savage  peoples.  Doubtless,  the 
relatively-large  abdomen  in  the  child  of  the  civilized  man, 
is  in  the  main  an  embryonic  trait.  But  as  the  children  of 
inferior  races  are  more  distinguished  in  this  way  than  our 
own  children,  we  get  indirect  reason  for  thinking  that  the 
less-developed  man  was  thus  distinguished  from  the  more- 
developed.  Schweinfurth  refers  to  the  children  of  the 
African  Arabs  as  like  the  Akka  in  this  respect.  Describing 
the  Veddahs,  Tennant  mentions  the  protuberant  stomachs 
of  the  children.  Galton  says  of  the  Damara  children,  that 
"  all  have  dreadfully  swelled  stomachs."  And  from  Dr. 
Hooker  I  learn  that  the  like  trait  holds  throughout  Bengal. 

The  possession  of  a  relatively-larger  alimentary  system 
is,  indeed,  a  character  of  the  lowest  races  inferable  from 
their  immense  capacities  for  containing  and  digesting  food. 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— PHYSICAL.  47 

Wrangel  says  each  of  the  Yakuts  ate  in  a  day  six  times  as 
many  fish  as  he  could  eat.  Cochrane  describes  a  five-year- 
old  child  of  this  race  as  devouring  three  candles,  several 
pounds  of  sour  frozen  butter,  and  a  large  piece  of  yellow 
soap;  and  adds — "I  have  repeatedly  seen  a  Yakut,  or  a 
Tongouse,  devour  forty  pounds  of  meat  in  a  day."  Of  the 
Comanches,  Schoolcraft  says — "  After  long  abstinence  they 
eat  voraciously,  and  without  apparent  inconvenience." 
•  Thompson  remarks  that  the  Bushmen  have  "  powers  of 
stomach  similar  to  the  beasts  of  prey,  both  in  voracity  and 
in  supporting  hunger."  And  no  less  clear  is  the  implication 
of  the  stories  of  gluttony  told  by  Captain  Lyon  about  the 
Esquimaux,  and  by  Sir  G.  Grey  about  the  Australians. 

Such  traits  are  necessary.  A  digestive  apparatus  large 
enough  for  a  European,  feeding  at  short  and  regular  in- 
tervals, would  not  be  large  enough  for  a  savage  whose  meals, 
sometimes  scanty,  sometimes  abundant,  follow  one  another, 
now  quickly,  and  now  after  the  lapse  of  days.  A  man  who 
depends  on  the  chances  of  the  chase,  will  profit  by  the  abil- 
ity to  digest  a  great  quantity  when  it  is  obtainable,  to  com- 
pensate for  intervals  of  semi-starvation.  A  stomach  able  to 
deal  only  with  a  moderate  meal,  must  leave  its  possessor  at 
a  disadvantage  in  comparison  with  one  whose  stomach  is 
able,  by  immense  meals,  to  make  up  for  many  meals 
missed.  Beyond  the  need  hence  arising  for  a  large 

alimentary  system,  there  is  the  need  arising  from  the  low 
quality  of  the  food.  Wild  fruits,  nuts,  roots,  shoots,  etc., 
must  be  eaten  in  great  masses  to  yield  the  required  supplies 
of  nitrogenous  compounds,  fats,  and  carbo-hydrates ;  and  of 
animal  food,  the  insects,  larvae,  worms,  vermin,  consumed 
in  default  of  larger  prey,  contain  much  useless  matter.  In- 
deed, the  worn  teeth  of  savages  suffice  of  themselves  to 
prove  that  much  indigestible  matter  is  masticated  and  swal- 
lowed. Hence,  such  an  abdominal  development  as  the  Akka 
show  in  a  degree  almost  ape-like,  is  a  trait  of  primitive  man 
necessitated  by  primitive  conditions. 


48  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Just  noting  that  some  waste  of  force  results  from  carry- 
ing about  relatively-larger  stomach  and  intestines,  let  us 
observe,  chiefly,  the  physiological  effects  accompanying 
such  a  structure  adapted  to  such  circumstances.  At  times 
when  enormous  meals  have  to  be  digested,  repletion  must 
produce  inertness;  and  at  times  when,  from  lack  of  food, 
the  energies  flag,  there  can  be  none  to  spare  for  any  activi- 
ties save  those  prompted  by  hunger.  Clearly,  the  irregular 
feeding  entailed  on  the  primitive  man,  prevents  continuous 
labour:  so  hindering,  in  yet  another  way,  the  actions  re- 
quired to  lead  him  out  of  his  primitive  state. 

§  27.  There  is  evidence  that,  apart  from  stature  and 
apart  even  from  muscular  development,  the  uncivilized  man 
is  less  powerful  than  the  civilized  man.  He  is  unable  to 
expend  suddenly  as  great  an  amount  of  force,  and  he  is 
unable  to  continue  the  expenditure  of  force  for  so  long  a 
time. 

Of  the  Tasmanians,  now  no  longer  existing,  Peron  said 
that,  though  they  were  vigorous-looking,  the  dynamometer 
proved  them  to  be  inferior  in  strength.  Their  allies  by  race, 
the  Papuans,  "  although  well  made,"  are  described  as  being 
"  our  inferiors  in  muscular  power."  Respecting  the  abo- 
rigines of  India,  the  evidence  is  not  quite  consistent.  Mason 
asserts  of  other  Hill-tribes,  as  of  the  Karens,  that  their 
strength  soon  flags;  while  Stewart  describes  the  Kookie 
boys  as  very  enduring :  the  anomaly  being,  as  we  shall  pres- 
ently see,  possibly  due  to  the  fact  that  he  did  not  test  their 
endurance  over  successive  days.  While  saying  that  the  Da- 
maras  have  "  immense  muscular  development,"  Galton  says 
— "  I  never  found  one  who  was  anything  like  a  match  for 
the  average  of  my  own  men  "  in  trials  of  strength ;  and 
Andersson  makes  a  like  remark.  Galton  further  observes 
that  "  in  a  long,  steady  journey  the  savages  [Damaras] 
quickly  knock  up  unless  they  adopt  some  of  our  usages." 
Similarly  with  American  races.  King  found  the  Esqui- 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— PHYSICAL.  49 

maux  relatively  weak;  and  Burton  remarks  of  the  Dakotahs 
that,  "  like  all  savages,  they  are  deficient  in  corporeal 
strength." 

There  are  probably  two  causes  for  this  contrast  between 
savage  and  civilized — relative  innutrition,  and  a  relatively- 
smaller  nervous  system.  The  fact  that  a  horse  out 
at  grass  gains  in  bulk  while  losing  his  fitness  for  continued 
exertion,  makes  credible  the  statement  that  a  savage  may 
have  fleshy  limbs  and  be  comparatively  weak;  and  that  his 
weakness  may  be  still  more  marked  when  his  muscles,  fed 
by  a  blood  of  low  quality,  are,  at  the  same  time,  small.  Men 
in  training  find  that  it  takes  months  to  raise  muscles  to  their 
highest  powers,  whether  of  sudden  exertion  or  prolonged 
exertion.  Whence  we  may  infer  that  from  food  poor  in 
kind  and  irregularly  supplied,  deficiency  of  strength,  under 
both  its  forms,  will  result.  The  other  cause,  less 
obvious,  is  one  which  must  not  be  overlooked.  As  was  shown 
in  the  Principles  of  'Psychology,  Ch.  I.,  it  is  the  nervous  sys- 
tem rather  than  the  muscular  system,  which  measures  the 
force  evolved.  In  all  animals  the  initiator  of  motion,  the 
nervous  system  varies  in  size  partly  as  the  quantity  of  mo- 
tion generated  and  partly  as  the  complexity  of  that  motion. 
On  remembering  the  failure  of  muscular  power  which  comes 
along  with  flagging  emotions,  or  desires  lapsing  into  indif- 
ference, and,  contrariwise,  the  immense  power  given  by 
intense  passion,  we  shall  see  how  immediate  is  the  depend- 
ence of  strength  upon  feeling.  And,  seeing  this,  we  shall 
understand  why,  other  things  equal,  the  savage  with  a 
smaller  brain,  generating  less  feeling,  is  not  so  strong. 

§  28.  Among  the  physiological  traits  which  distinguish 
man  in  his  primitive  state  from  man  in  his  advanced  state, 
we  may,  with  certainty,  set  down  relative  hardiness.  Con- 
trast the  trial  of  constitution  which  child-bearing  brings  on 
the  civilized  woman,  with  that  which  it  brings  on  the  savage 
woman.  Ask  what  would  happen  to  both  mother  and  child, 


£0  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

under  the  conditions  of  savage  life,  had  they  no  greater 
toughness  of  physique  than  is  possessed  by  the  civilized 
mother  and  child.  Both  the  existence  of  this  trait  and  its 
necessity  will  then  be  obvious. 

Survival  of  the  fittest  must  ever  have  tended  to  produce 
and  maintain  a  constitution  capable  of  enduring  the  pains, 
hardships,  injuries,  necessarily  accompanying  a  life  at  the 
mercy  of  surrounding  actions.  The  Fuegian  who  quietly 
lets  the  falling  sleet  melt  on  his  naked  body,  must  be  the 
product  of  a  discipline  which  has  killed  off  all  who  were  not 
extremely  tenacious  of  life.  When  we  read  that  the  Yakuts, 
who  from  their  ability  to  bear  cold  are  called  "  iron  men," 
sometimes  sleep  "  completely  exposed  to  the  heavens,  with 
scarcely  any  clothing  on,  and  their  bodies  covered  with  a 
thick  coat  of  rime,"  we  must  infer  that  their  adaptation  to 
the  severities  of  their  climate  has  resulted  from  the  habitual 
destruction  of  all  but  the  most  resisting.  Similarly  with  re- 
spect to  another  detrimental  influence.  Mr.  Hodgson  re- 
marks that  a  "  capacity  to  breathe  malaria  as  though  it  were 
common  air,  characterizes  nearly  all  the  Tamulian  abo- 
rigines of  India;  "  and  the  ability  of  some  Negro-races  to 
live  in  pestilential  regions,  shows  that  elsewhere  there  has 
been  produced  a  power  to  withstand  deleterious  vapours. 
So,  too,  is  it  with  the  bearing  of  bodily  injuries.  The  re- 
cuperative powers  of  the  Australians,  and  of  other  low  races, 
are  notorious.  Wounds  which  would  be  fatal  to  Europeans 
they  readily  recover  from. 

Whether  this  gain  entails  loss  in  other  directions,  we 
have  no  direct  evidence.  It  is  known  that  the  hardier  breeds 
of  domestic  animals  are  smaller  than  the  less  hardy  breeds ; 
and  it  may  be  that  a  human  body  adapted  to  extreme  per- 
turbations, gains  its  adaptation  at  the  expense,  perhaps  of 
size,  perhaps  of  energy.  And  if  so,  this  fitness  for  primitive 
conditions  entails  yet  a  further  impediment  to  the  establish- 
ment of  higher  conditions. 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— PHYSICAL.  51 

§  29.  A  closely-related  physiological  trait  must  be 
added.  Along  with  this  greater  ability  to  bear  injurious 
actions,  there  is  a  comparative  indifference  to  the  disagree- 
able or  painful  sensations  those  actions  cause;  or  rather, 
the  sensations  they  cause  are  not  so  acute.  According  to 
Lichtenstein,  the  Bushmen  do  not  "  appear  to  have  any  feel- 
ing of  even  the  most  striking  changes  in  the  temperature 
of  the  atmosphere."  Gardiner  says  the  Zulus  "  are  perfect 
salamanders  " — arranging  the  burning  faggots  with  their 
feet,  and  dipping  their  hands  into  the  boiling  contents  of 
cooking-vessels.  The  Abipones,  again,  are  "  extremely  tol- 
erant of  the  inclemencies  of  the  sky."  So  is  it  with  the  feel- 
ings caused  by  bodily  injuries.  Many  travellers  express 
surprise  at  the  calmness  with  which  men  of  inferior  types 
undergo  serious  operations.  Evidently  the  sufferings  pro- 
duced are  much  less  than  would  be  produced  in  men  of 
higher  types. 

Here  we  have  a  further  characteristic  which  might  have 
been  inferred  d  priori.  Pain  of  every  kind,  down  even  to 
the  irritation  produced  by  discomfort,  entails  physiological 
waste  of  a  detrimental  kind.  No  less  certain  than  the  fact 
that  continued  agony  is  followed  by  exhaustion,  which  in 
feeble  persons  may  be  fatal,  is  the  fact  that  minor  sufferings, 
including  the  disagreeable  sensations  caused  by  cold  and 
hunger,  undermine  the  energies,  and  may,  when  the  vital 
balance  is  difficult  to  maintain,  destroy  it.  Among  primi- 
tive races  the  most  callous  must  have  had  the  advantage 
Avhen  irremediable  evils  had  to  be  borne;  and  thus  relative 
callousness  must  have  been  made,  by  survival  of  the  fittest, 
constitutional. 

This  physiological  trait  of  primitive  man  has  a  meaning 
for  us.  Positive  and  negative  discomforts — the  sufferings 
which  come  from  over-excited  nerves,  and  the  cravings 
originated  by  parts  of  the  nervous  system  debarred  from 
their  normal  actions — being  the  stimuli  to  exertion,  it  results 
that  the  constitutionally  callous  are  less  readily  spurred  into 


52  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

activity.  A  physical  evil  which  prompts  a  relatively-sensi- 
tive man  to  provide  a  remedy,  leaves  a  relatively-insensitive 
man  almost  or  quite  inert:  either  he  submits  passively,  or 
he  is  content  with  some  make-shift  remedy. 

So  that  beyond  positive  obstacles  to  advance,  there  exists 
at  the  outset  this  negative  obstacle,  that  the  feelings  which 
prompt  efforts  and  cause  improvements  are  weak. 

§  30.  As  preliminary  to  the  summing  up  of  these  physi- 
cal characters,  I  must  name  a  most  general  one — early  ar- 
rival at  maturity.  Other  things  equal,  the  less  evolved  types 
of  organisms  take  shorter  times  to  reach  their  complete  forms 
than  do  the  more  evolved;  and  this  contrast,  conspicuous 
between  men  and  most  inferior  creatures,  is  perceptible 
among  varieties  of  men.  There  is  reason  for  associating 
this  difference  with  the  difference  in  cerebral  development. 
The  greater  costliness  of  the  larger  brain,  which  so  long 
delays  human  maturity  as  compared  with  mammalian  ma- 
turity generally,  delays  also  the  maturity  of  the  civilized 
as  compared  with  that  of  the  savage.  Causation  apart,  how- 
ever, the  fact  is  that  (climate  and  other  conditions  being 
equal)  the  inferior  races  reach  puberty  sooner  than  the 
superior  races.  Everywhere  the  remark  is  made  that  the 
women  early  bloom  and  early  fade;  and  a  corresponding 
trait  of  course  holds  in  the  men.  This  completion  of  growth 
and  structure  in  a  shorter  period,  implies  less  plasticity  of 
nature :  the  rigidity  of  adult  life  sooner  makes  modification 
difficult.  This  trait  has  noteworthy  consequences:  one 
being  that  it  tends  to  increase  those  obstacles  to  progress  aris- 
ing from  the  characters  above  described;  which,  on  now 
re-enumerating  them,  we  shall  see  are  already  great. 

If  the  primitive  man  was  on  the  average  less  than  man 
as  we  now  know  him,  there  must  have  existed,  during  early 
stages  when  also  the  groups  of  men  were  small  and  their 
weapons  ineffective,  far  greater  difficulties  than  afterwards 
in  dealing  with  the  larger  animals,  both  enemies  and  prey. 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— PHYSICAL.  53 

Inferiority  of  the  lower  limbs,  alike  in  size  and  structure, 
must  also  have  made  primitive  men  less  able  to  cope  with 
powerful  and  swift  creatures;  whether  they  had  to  be  es- 
caped from  or  mastered.  His  larger  alimentary  system, 
adapted  to  an  irregular  supply  of  food,  mostly  inferior  in 
quality,  dirty,  and  uncooked,  besides  entailing  mechanical 
loss,  gave  to  the  primitive  man  only  an  irregular  supply  of 
nervous  power,  smaller  in  average  amount  than  that  which 
follows  good  feeding.  Constitutional  callousness,  even  of 
itself  adverse  to  progress,  must,  when  coexisting  with  this 
lack  of  persistent  energy,  have  hindered  still  further  any 
change  for  the  better.  So  that  in  three  ways  the  impedi- 
ments due  to  physical  constitution  were  at  first  greater  than 
afterwards.  By  his  structure  man  was  not  so  well  fitted  for 
dealing  with  his  difficulties ;  the  energies  required  for  over- 
coming them  were  smaller  as  well  as  more  irregular  in  flow; 
land  he  was  less  sensitive  to  the  evils  he  had  to  bear.  At 
the  time  when  his  environment  was  entirely  unsubjugated, 
he  was  least  able  and  least  anxious  to  subjugate  it.  While 
the  resistances  to  progress  were  greatest,  the  ability  to  over- 
come them  and  the  stimulus  to  overcome  them  were  smallest. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    PRIMITIVE    MAN EMOTIONAL. 

§  31.  A  MEASURE  of  evolution  in  living  things,  is  the 
degree  of  correspondence  between  changes  in  the  organism 
and  coexistences  and  sequences  in  the  environment.  In  the 
Principles  of  Psychology  (§§  139 — 176),  it  was  shown  that 
mental  development  is  "an  adjustment  of  inner  to  outer 
relations  that  gradually  extends  in  Space  and  Time,  that 
becomes  increasingly  special  and  complex,  and  that  has  its 
elements  ever  more  precisely  co-ordinated  and  more  com- 
pletely integrated."  Though  in  that  place  chiefly  exempli- 
fied as  the  law  of  intellectual  progress,  this  is  equally  the 
law  of  emotional  progress.  The  emotions  are  compounded 
out  of  simple  feelings,  or  rather,  out  of  the  ideas  of  them; 
the  higher  emotions  are  compounded  out  of  the  lower  emo- 
tions; and  thus  there  is  progressing  integration.  For  the 
same  reason  there  is  progressing  complexity:  each  larger 
aggregate  of  ideal  feelings  contains  more  varied,  as  well  as 
more  numerous,  clusters  of  components.  Extension  of  the 
correspondence  in  Space,  too,  though  less  manifest,  is  visi- 
ble: witness  the  difference  between  the  proprietary  feeling 
in  the  savage,  responding  only  to  a  few  adjacent  objects- 
food,  weapons,  decorations,  place  of  shelter — and  the  pro- 
prietary feeling  in  the  civilized  man,  who  owns  land  in  Can- 
ada, shares  in  an  Australian  mine,  Egyptian  stock,  and  mort- 
gage-bonds on  an  Indian  railway.  And  that  a  kindred  ex- 
tension of  the  correspondence  in  Time  occurs,  will  be 

54 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— EMOTIONAL.  55 

manifest  on  remembering  how,  in  ourselves,  the  sentiment 
of  possession  prompts  acts  of  which  the  fruition  can  come 
only  after  many  years,  and  is  even  gratified  by  an  ideal 
power  over  bequeathed  property. 

As  was  pointed  out  in  a  later  division  of  the  Principles  of 
Psychology  (§§  479 — 483),  a  more  special  measure  of  men- 
tal development  is  the  degree  of  representativeness  in  the 
states  of  consciousness.  Cognitions  and  feelings  were  both 
classified  in  the  ascending  order  of  presentative,  presenta- 
tive-representative,  representative,  and  re-representative. 
It  was  shown  that  this  more  special  standard  harmonizes  with 
the  more  general  standard ;  since  higher  representativeness 
is  implied  by  the  more  extensive  integrations  of  ideas,  by 
the  increased  definiteness  with  which  ideas  are  formed,  by 
the  greater  complexity  of  the  integrated  groups,  as  well  as 
by  the  greater  heterogeneity  among  their  elements;  and 
here  it  may  be  added  that  higher  representativeness  is  also 
shown  by  the  wider  range  in  Space  and  in  Time  reached  by 
the  representations. 

There  is  a  further  measure  which  may  be  serviceably 
used  along  with  the  other  two.  In  the  Principles  ofPsychol- 
°ffy,  §  253,  we  saw  that — 

"Mental  evolution,  both  intellectual  and  emotional,  may  be  meas- 
ured by  the  degree  of  remoteness  from  primitive  reflex  action.  The 
formation  of  sudden,  irreversible  conclusions  on  the  slenderest  evi- 
dence, is  less  distant  from  reflex  action  than  is  the  formation  of  delib- 
erate and  modifiable  conclusions  after  much  evidence  has  been  col- 
lected. And  similarly,  the  quick  passage  of  simple  emotions  into  the 
particular  kinds  of  conduct  they  prompt,  is  less  distant  from  reflex 
action  than  is  the  comparatively-hesitating  passage  of  compound  emo- 
tions into  kinds  of  conduct  determined  by  the  joint  instigation  cf 
their  components." 

Here,  then,  are  our  guides  in  studying  the  emotional 
nature  of  primitive  man.  Being  less  evolved,  we  must 
expect  to  find  him  deficient  in  those  complex  emotions  which 
respond  to  multitudinous  and  remote  probabilities  and  con- 
tingencies. His  consciousness  differs  from  that  of  the  civil- 


56  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ized  man,  by  consisting  more  of  sensations  and  the  simple 
representative  feelings  directly  associated  with  them,  and 
less  of  the  involved  representative  feelings.  And  the  rela- 
tively-simple emotional  consciousness  thus  characterized,  we 
may  expect  to  be  consequently  characterized  by  more  of 
that  irregularity  which  results  when  each  desire  as  it  arises 
discharges  itself  in  action  before  counter-desires  have  been 
awakened. 

§  32.  On  turning  from  these  deductions  to  examine  the 
facts  with  a  view  to  induction,  we  meet  difficulties  like  those 
met  in  the  last  chapter.  As  in  size  and  structure,  the  inferior 
races  differ  from  one  another  enough  to  produce  some  in- 
definiteness  in  our  conception  of  the  primitive  man — physi- 
cal; so  in  their  passions  and  sentiments,  the  inferior  races 
present  contrasts  which  obscure  the  essential  traits  of  the 
primitive  man — emotional. 

This  last  difficulty,  like  the  first,  is  indeed  one  that  might 
have  been  anticipated.  Widely-contrasted  habitats,  entail- 
ing widely-unlike  modes  of  life,  have  necessarily  caused 
emotional  specialization  as  well  as  physical  specialization. 
Further,  the  inferior  varieties  of  men  have  been  made  to 
differ  by  the  degrees  and  durations  of  social  discipline  they 
have 'been  subject  to.  Referring  to  such  unlikenesses,  Mr. 
Wallace  remarks  that  "  there  is,  in  fact,  almost  as  much 
difference  between  the  various  races  of  savage  as  of  civilized 
peoples." 

To  conceive  the  primitive  man,  therefore,  as  he  existed 
when  social  aggregation  commenced,  we  must  generalize  as 
well  as  we  can  this  entangled  and  partially-conflicting  evi- 
dence :  led  mainly  by  the  traits  common  to  the  very  lowest, 
and  finding  what  guidance  we  may  in  the  d  priori  conclu- 
sions set  down  above. 

§  33.  The  fundamental  trait  of  impulsiveness  is  not 
everywhere  conspicuous.  Taken  in  the  mass,  the  aborigines 


THE  PRIMITIVE   MAN— EMOTIONAL.  57 

of  the  New  World  seem  impassive  in  comparison  with  those 
of  the  Old  World:  some  of  them,  indeed,  exceeding  the 
civilized  peoples  of  Europe  in  ability  to  control  their  emo- 
tions. The  Dakotahs  suffer  with  patience  both  physical 
and  moral  pains.  The  Creeks  display  "  phlegmatic  coldness 
and  indifference."  According  to  Bernau,  the  Guiana  In- 
dian, though  "  strong  in  his  affections,  ...  is  never  seen 
to  weep,  but  will  bear  the  most  excruciating  pains  and  the 
loss  of  his  dearest  relations  with  apparent  stoical  insensibil- 
ity; "  and  Humboldt  speaks  of  his  "resignation."  Wal- 
lace comments  on  "  the  apathy  of  the  Indian,  who  scarcely 
ever  exhibits  any  feelings  of  regret  on  parting  or  of  pleasure 
on  his  return."  And  that  a  character  of  this  kind  was  wide- 
spread, seems  implied  by  accounts  of  the  ancient  Mexicans, 
Peruvians,  and  peoples  of  Central  America.  Nev- 

ertheless, there  are  among  these  races  traits  of  a  contrary 
kind,  more  congruous  with  those  of  the  uncivilized  at  large. 
Spite  of  their  usually  unimpassioned  behaviour,  the  Da- 
kotahs rise  into  frightful  states  of  bloody  fury  when  killing 
buffaloes;  and  among  the  phlegmatic  Creeks,  there  are 
"  very  frequent  suicides  "  caused  by  "  trifling  disappoint- 
ments." Some  of  the  American  indigenes,  too,  do  not  show 
this  apathy;  as,  in  the  North,  the  Chinook  Indian,  who  is 
said  to  be  "  a  mere  child,  irritated  by,  and  pleased  with,  a 
trifle;  "  and  as,  in  the  South,  the  Brazilian,  of  whom  we 
read  that  "  if  a  savage  struck  a  foot  against  a  stone,  he  raged 
over  it,  and  bit  it  like  a  dog."  Such  non-impulsive- 

ness as  exists  in  the  American  races,  may  possibly  be  due  to 
constitutional  inertness.  Among  ourselves,  there  are  people 
whose  equanimity  results  from  want  of  vitality :  being  but 
half  alive,  the  emotions  roused  in  them  by  irritations  have 
less  than  the  usual  intensities.  That  apathy  thus  caused 
may  account  for  this  peculiarity,  seems,  in  South  America, 
implied  by  the  alleged  sexual  coldness. 

Recognizing  what  anomaly  there  may  be  in  these  facts, 
we  find,  throughout  the  rest  of  the  world,  a  general  con- 


58  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

gruity.  Passing  from  North  America  to  Asia,  we  come  to 
the  Kamschadales,  who  are  "  excitable,  not  to  say  (for  men) 
hysterical.  A  light  matter  sent  them  mad,  or  made  them 
commit  suicide;  "  and  we  come  to  the  Kirghiz,  who  are 
said  to  be  "  fickle  and  uncertain."  Turning  to  Southern 
Asiatics,  we  find  Burton  asserting  of  the  Bedouin  that  his 
valour  is  "  fitful  and  uncertain."  And  while,  of  the  Arabs, 
Denham  remarks  that  "  their  common  conversational  inter- 
course appears  to  be  a  continual  strife  and  quarrel,"  Pal- 
grave  says  they  will  "  chaffer  half  a  day  about  a  penny, 
while  they  will  throw  away  the  worth  of  pounds  on  the  first 
asker."  In  Africa  like  traits  occur.  Premising  that  the 
East- African  is,  "  like  all  other  barbarians,  a  strange  mixture 
of  good  and  evil,"  Burton  describes  him  thus: — 

"  He  is  at  once  very  good-tempered  and  hard-hearted,  combative 
and  cautious;  kind  at  one  moment,  cruel,  pitiless,  and  violent  at  an- 
other ;  sociable  and  unaffectionate ;  superstitious  and  grossly  irrever- 
ent; brave  and  cowardly;  servile  and  oppressive;  obstinate,  yet  fickle 
and  fond  of  change ;  with  points  of  honour,  but  without  a  trace  of 
honesty  in  word  or  deed;  a  lover  of  life,  yet  addicted  to  suicide; 
covetous  and  parsimonious,  yet  thoughtless  and  improvident." 
With  the  exception  of  the  Bechuanas,  the  like  is  true  of 
the  races  further  south.  Thus,  in  the  Damara,  the  feeling 
of  revenge  is  very  transient — "  gives  way  to  admiration  of 
the  oppressor."  Burchell  describes  the  Hottentots  as  pass- 
ing from  extreme  laziness  to  extreme  eagerness  for  action. 
And  the  Bushman  is  quick,  generous,  headstrong,  vindictive 
— very  noisy  quarrels  are  of  daily  occurrence:  father  and 
son  will  attempt  to  kill  each  other.  Of  the  scattered  socie- 
ties inhabiting  the  Eastern  Archipelago,  those  in  which  the 
Malay-blood  predominates,  do  not  exhibit  this  trait.  The 
Malagasy  are  said  to  have  "  passions  never  violently  ex- 
cited; "  and  the  pure  Malay  is  described  as  not  demon- 
strative. The  rest,  however,  have  the  ordinary  variability. 
Among  the  Negritos,  the  Papuan  is  "  impetuous,  excitable 
noisy ;  "  the  Fi jians  have  "  emotions  easily  roused,  but  tran- 
sient," and  "are  extremely  changeable  in  their  disposition;  " 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— EMOTIONAL.  59 

the  Andamanese  "  are  all  frightfully  passionate  and  revenge- 
ful;- "  and  of  the  Tasmanians  we  read  that,  "  like  all  savages, 
they  quickly  changed  from  smiles  to  tears."  So,  too,  of  the 
other  lowest  races:  there  are  the  Fuegians,  who  "  have 
hasty  tempers,"  and  "  are  loud  and  furious  talkers;  "  there 
are  the  Australians,  whose  impulsiveness  Haygarth  implies 
by  saying  that  the  angry  Australian  jin  exceeds  the  Euro- 
pean scold,  and  that  a  man  remarkable  for  haughtiness  and 
reserve  sobbed  long  when  his  nephew  was  taken  from  him. 
Bearing  in  mind  that  such  non-impulsiveness  as  is  shown 
by  the  Malays  occurs  in  a  partially-civilized  race,  and  that 
the  lowest  races,  as  the  Andamanese,  Tasmanians,  Fuegians, 
Australians,  betray  impulsiveness  in  a  very  decided  manner; 
we  may  safely  assert  it  to  be  a  trait  of  primitive  man.  What 
the  earliest  character  was,  is  well  suggested  by  the  follow- 
ing vivid  description  of  a  Bushman.  Indicating  his  simian 
appearance,  Lichtenstein  continues: — 

"What  gives  the  more  verity  to  such  a  comparison  was  the  vivac- 
ity of  his  eyes,  and  the  flexibility  of  his  eyebrows,  which  he  worked 
up  and  down  with  every  change  of  countenance.  Even  his  nostrils 
and  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  nay,  his  very  ears,  moved  involuntarily, 
expressing  his  hasty  transitions  from  eager  desire  to  watchful  distrust. 
.  .  .  When  a  piece  of  meat  was  given  him,  and  half-rising  he  stretched 
out  a  distrustful  arm  to  take  it,  he  snatched  it  hastily,  and  stuck  it 
immediately  into  the  fire,  peering  around  with  his  little  keen  eyes,  as 
if  fearing  that  some  one  should  take  it  away  again : — all  this  was  done 
with  such  looks  and  gestures,  that  anyone  must  have  been  ready  to 
swear  he  had  taken  the  example  of  them  entirely  from  an  ape." 

Evidence  that  early  human  nature  differed  from  later 
human  nature  by  having  this  extreme  emotional  variability, 
is  yielded  by  the  contrast  between  the  child  and  the  adult 
among  ourselves.  For  on  the  hypothesis  of  evolution,  the 
civilized  man,  passing  through  phases  representing  phases 
passed  through  by  the  race,  will,  early  in  life,  betray  this 
impulsiveness  which  the  early  race  had.  The  saying  that 
the  savage  has  the  mind  of  a  child  with  the  passions  of  a 
man  (or,  rather,  has  adult  passions  which  act  in  a  childish 


60  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

manner)  possesses  a  deeper  meaning  than  appears.  There  is 
a  relationship  between  the  two  natures  such  that,  allowing 
for  differences  of  kind  and  degree  in  the  emotions,  we  may 
regard  the  co-ordination  of  them  in  the  child  as  analogous  to 
the  co-ordination  in  the  primitive  man. 

§  34.  The  more  special  emotional  traits  are  in  large  part 
dependent  on,  and  further  illustrative  of,  this  general  trait. 
This  relative  impulsiveness,  this  smaller  departure  from 
primitive  reflex  action,  this  lack  of  the  re-representative 
emotions  which  hold  the  simpler  ones  in  check,  is  accom- 
panied by  improvidence. 

The  Australians  are  "  incapable  of  anything  like  perse- 
vering labour,  the  reward  of  which  is  in  futurity;  "  the 
Hottentots  are  "  the  laziest  people  under  the  sun;  "  and  with 
the  Bushmen  it  is  "  always  either  a  feast  or  a  famine." 
Passing  to  the  indigenes  of  India,  we  read  of  the  Todas  that 
they  are  "  indolent  and  slothful;  "  of  the  Bhils,  that  they 
have  "  a  contempt  and  dislike  to  labour  "• — will  half  starve 
rather  than  work;  of  the  Santals,  that  they  have  not  "  the 
unconquerable  laziness  of  the  very  old  Hill-tribes."  So, 
from  Northern  Asia,  the  Kirghiz  may  be  taken  as  exempli- 
fying idleness.  In  America,  we  have  the  fact  that  none  of 
the  aboriginal  peoples,  if  uncoerced,  show  capacity  for  in- 
dustry: in  the  North,  cut  off  from  his  hunting  life,  the 
Indian,  capable  of  no  other,  decays  and  disappears;  and  in 
the  South,  the  tribes  disciplined  by  the  Jesuits  lapsed  into 
their  original  state,  or  a  worse,  when  the  stimuli  and  re- 
straints ceased.  All  which  facts  are  in  part  ascribable  to 
inadequate  consciousness  of  the  future.  Where,  as  in  sundry 
Malayo-Polynesian  societies,  we  find  considerable  industry, 
it  goes  along  with  a  social  state  implying  discipline  through- 
out a  long  past.  It  is  true  that  perseverance  with  a  view 
to  remote  benefit  occurs  among  savages.  They  bestow  much 
time  and  pains  on  their  weapons,  etc. :  six  months  to  make 
as  many  arrows,  a  year  in  hollowing  out  a  bowl,  and  many 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— EMOTIONAL.  61 

years  in  drilling  a  hole  through  a  stone.  But  in  these  cases 
little  muscular  effort  is  required,  and  the  activity  is  thrown 
on  perceptive  faculties  which  are  constitutionally  active.* 

A  trait  which  naturally  goes  along  with  inability  so  to 
conceive  the  future  as  to  be  influenced  by  the  conception, 
is  a  childish  mirthf  ulness.  Though  sundry  races  of  the  Xew 
World,  along  with  their  general  impassiveness,  are  little 
inclined  to  gaiety,  and  though  among  the  Malay  races  and 
the  Dyaks  gravity  is  a  characteristic,  yet,  generally,  it  is 
otherwise.  Of  the  New  Caledonians,  Fijians,  Tahitians, 
Xew  Zealanders,  we  read  that  they  are  always  laughing  and 
joking.  Throughout  Africa  the  Xegro  has  the  same  trait; 
and  of  other  races,  in  other  lands,  the  descriptions  of  various 
travellers  are — "  full  of  fun  and  merriment,"  "  full  of  life 
and  spirits,"  "  merry  and  talkative,"  "  sky-larking  in  all 
ways,"  "  boisterous  gaiety,"  "  laughing  immoderately  at 
trifles."  Even  the  Esquimaux,  notwithstanding  all  their 
privations,  are  described  as  "  a  happy  people."  We  have 
but  to  remember  how  greatly  anxiety  about  coming  events 
moderates  the  spirits — we  have  but  to  contrast  the  lively 
but  improvident  Irishman  with  the  grave  but  provident  Scot 
— to  see  that  there  is  a  relation  between  these  traits  in  the 
uncivilized  man.  Thoughtless  absorption  in  the  present 
causes  at  the  same  time  these  excesses  of  gaiety  and  this  in- 
attention to  threatened  evils. 

Along  with  improvidence  there  goes,  both  as  cause  and 
consequence,  an  undeveloped  proprietary  sentiment.  Under 

*  It  should  be  remarked  as  a  qualifying  fact,  which  has  its  physiological, 
as  well  as  its  sociological,  interest,  that  men  and  women  are  in  sundry  cases 
described  as  unlike  in  powers  of  application.  Among  the  Bhils,  while  the 
men  hate  labour,  many  of  the  women  are  said  to  be  industrious.  Among  the 
Rookies  the  women  are  "  quite  as  industrious  and  indefatigable  as  the  Naga 
women : "  the  men  of  both  tribes  being  inclined  to  be  lazy.  Similarly  in 
Africa.  In  Loango,  though  the  men  are  inert,  the  women  "  give  themselves  up 
to  "  husbandry  "  with  indefatigable  ardour ; "  and  our  recent  experiences  on  the 
Gold-Coast  show  that  a  like  contrast  holds  there.  The  establishment  of  this 
difference  seems  to  imply  the  limitation  of  heredity  by  sex. 


62  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

his  conditions  it  is  impossible  for  the  savage  to  have  an  ex- 
tended consciousness  of  individual  possession.  Established, 
as  the  sentiment  can  be,  only  by  experiences  of  the  gratifi- 
cations which  possession  brings,  continued  through  succes- 
sive generations,  it  cannot  arise  where  the  circumstances 
do  not  permit  many  such  experiences.  Beyond  the  few  rude 
appliances  ministering  to  bodily  wants  and  decorations,  the 
primitive  man  has  nothing  to  accumulate.  Where  he  has 
grown  into  a  pastoral  life,  there  arises  a  possibility  of  benefits 
from  increased  possessions:  he  profits  by  multiplying  his 
flocks.  Still,  while  he  remains  nomadic,  it  is  difficult  to  sup- 
ply his  flocks  with  unfailing  food  when  they  are  large,  and 
he  has  increased  losses  from  enemies  and  wild  animals;  so 
that  the  benefits  of  accumulation  are  kept  within  narrow 
limits.  Only  as  the  agricultural  state  is  reached,  and  only  as 
the  tenure  of  land  passes  from  the  tribal  form,  through  the 
family  form,  to  the  individual  form,  is  there  a  widening  of 
the  sphere  for  the  proprietary  sentiment. 

Distinguished  by  improvidence,  and  by  deficiency  of  that 
desire  to  own  which  checks  improvidence,  the  savage  is  thus 
debarred  from  experiences  which  develop  this  desire  and 
diminish  the  improvidence. 

§  35.  Let  us  turn  now  to  those  emotional  traits  which 
directly  affect  the  formation  of  social  groups.  Varieties  of 
mankind  are  social  in  different  degrees;  and,  further,  are 
here  tolerant  of  restraint  and  there  intolerant  of  it.  Clearly, 
the  proportions  between  these  two  characteristics  must 
greatly  affect  social  unions. 

Describing  the  Mantras,  indigenes  of  the  Malay-penin- 
sula, pere  Bourien  says — "  liberty  seems  to  be  to  them  a 
necessity  of  their  very  existence;  "  "  every  individual  lives 
as  if  there  were  no  other  person  in  the  world  but  himself;  " 
they  separate  if  they  dispute.  So  is  it  with  the  wild  men 
in  the  interior  of  Borneo,  "  who  do  not  associate  with  each 
other;  "  and  whose  children,  when  "  old  enough  to  shift 


THE   PRIMITIVE  MAN— EMOTIONAL.  63 

for  themselves,  usually  separate,  neither  one  afterwards 
thinking  of  the  other."  A  nature  of  this  kind  shows  its  ef- 
fects in  the  solitary  families  of  the  wood-Veddahs,  or  those 
of  the  Bushmen,  whom  Arbousset  describes  as  "  indepen- 
dent and  poor  beyond  measure,  as  if  they  had  sworn  to  re- 
main always  free  and  without  possessions."  Of  sundry  races 
that  remain  in  a  low  state,  this  trait  is  remarked;  as  of  Bra- 
zilian Indians,  who,  tractable  when  quite  young,  begin  to 
display  "  impatience  of  all  restraint  "  at  puberty;  as  of  the 
Caribs,  who  are  "  impatient  under  the  least  infringement  " 
of  their  independence.  Among  Indian  Hill-tribes  the  sav- 
age Bhils  have  "a  natural  spirit  of  independence ;  "  the 
Bodo  and  Dhimal  "  resist  injunctions  injudiciously  urged, 
with  dogged  obstinacy;  "  and  the  Lepchas  "  undergo  great 
privations  rather  than  submit  to  oppression."  This  trait 
we  meet  with  again  among  some  nomadic  races.  "  A  Bed- 
ouin," says  Burckhardt,  "  will  not  summit  to  any  command, 
but  readily  yields  to  persuasion;  "  and  he  is  said  by  Pal- 
grave  to  have  "  a  high  appreciation  of  national  and  personal 
liberty."  That  this  moral  trait  is  injurious  during  early 
stages  of  social  progress,  is  in  some  cases  observed  by 
travellers,  as  by  Earl,  who  says  of  the  New  Guinea  peo- 
ple that  their  "  impatience  of  control  "  precludes  organiza- 
tion. Not,  indeed,  that  absence  of  independence 
will  of  itself  cause  an  opposite  result.  The  Kamschadales 
exhibit  "  slavishness  to  people  who  use  them  hard,"  and 
"  contempt  of  those  who  treat  them  with  gentleness ;  "  and 
while  the  Damaras  have  "  no  independence,"  they  "  court 
slavery :  admiration  and  fear  "  being  their  only  strong  senti- 
ments. A  certain  ratio  between  the  feelings  prompting 
obedience  and  prompting  resistance,  seems  required.  The 
Malays,  who  have  evolved  into  several  semi-civilized  socie- 
ties, are  said  to  be  submissive  to  authority;  and  yet  each 
is  "  sensitive  to  ...  any  interference  with  the  personal  lib- 
erty of  himself  or  another."  Clearly,  however,  be  the  cause 
of  subordination  what  it  may,  a  relatively-subordinate  na- 


64  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ture  is.  everywhere  shown  by  men  composing  social  aggre- 
gates of  considerable  sizes.  In  such  semi-civilized  com- 
munities as  tropical  Africa  contains,  it  is  conspicuous;  and 
it  characterized  the  peoples  who  formed  the  extinct  oriental 
nations,  as  also  those  who  formed  the  extinct  nations  of  the 
New  World. 

If,  as  among  the  Mantras  above  named,  intolerance  of 
restraint  is  joined  with  want  of  sociality,  there  is  a  double 
obstacle  to  social  union :  a  cause  of  dispersion  is  not  checked 
by  a  cause  of  aggregation.  If,  as  among  the  Todas,  a  man 
will  sit  inactive  for  hours,  "  seeking  no  companionship,"  he 
is  under  less  temptation  to  tolerate  restrictions  than  if  soli- 
tude is  unbearable.  Clearly,  the  ferocious  Fijian  in  whom, 
strange  as  it  seems,  "  the  sentiment  of  friendship  is  strongly 
developed,"  is  impelled  by  this  sentiment,  as  well  as  by  his 
extreme  loyalty,  to  continue  in  a  society  in  which  despotism 
based  on  cannabalism  is  without  check. 

Induction  thus  sufficiently  verifies  the  deduction  that 
primitive  men,  who,  before  any  arts  of  life  were  developed, 
necessarily  lived  on  wild  food,  implying  wide  dispersion  of 
small  numbers,  were,  on  the  one  hand,  not  much  habituated 
to  associated  life,  and  were,  on  the  other  hand,  habituated 
to  that  uncontrolled  following  of  immediate  desires  which 
goes  along  with  separateness.  So  that  while  the  attractive 
force  was  small  the  repulsive  force  was  great.  Only  as  they 
were  led  into  greater  gregariousness  by  local  conditions 
which  furthered  the  maintenance  of  many  persons  on  a  small 
area,  could  there  come  that  increase  of  sociality  required 
to  check  unrestrained  action.  And  here  we  see  yet  a  further 
difficulty  which  stood  in  the  way  of  social  evolution  at  the 
outset. 

§  36.  Led  as  we  thus  are  from  emotions  of  an  exclusive- 
ly egoistic  kind  to  emotions  which  imply  the  presence  of 
other  individuals,  let  us  take  first  the  ego-altruistic.  (Prt'n. 
of  Psy.,  §§  519 — 23.)  Before  there  exist  in  considerable 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— EMOTIONAL.  55 

degrees  the  sentiments  which  find  satisfaction  in  the  happi- 
ness of  others,  there  exist  in  considerable  degrees  the  senti- 
ments which  find  satisfaction  in  the  admiration  given  by 
others.  Even  animals  show  themselves  gratified  by  applause 
after  achievement;  and  in  men  the  gregarious  life  early 
opens  and  enlarges  this  source  of  pleasure. 

Great  as  is  the  vanity  of  the  civilized,  it  is  exceeded  by 
that  of  the  uncivilized.  The  red  pigment  and  the  sea-shells 
pierced  for  suspension,  found  with  other  traces  of  men  in 
the  Dordogne  caves,  prove  that  in  that  remote  past  when  the 
rein-deer  and  the  mammoth  inhabited  southern  France,  men 
drew  to  themselves  admiring  glances  by  colours  and  orna- 
ments. Self -decoration  occupies  the  savage  chief  even  more 
than  it  does  the  fashionable  lady  among  ourselves.  The 
painting  of  the  skin,  about  which  so  much  trouble  is  taken 
before  clothes  are  used,  shows  this.  It  is  shown  again  by 
submission  to  prolonged  and  repeated  tortures  while  being 
tattooed ;  and  by  tolerance  of  those  pains  and  inconveniences 
which  accompany  the  distension  of  the  under-lip  by  a  block 
of  wood,  the  wearing  of  stones  in  holes  made  through  the 
cheeks,  or  of  quills  through  the  nose.  The  strength  of  the 
desire  to  gain  approbation  is,  in  these  cases,  proved  by  the 
universality  of  the  fashion  in  each  tribe.  When  the  age 
comes,  there  is  no  escape  for  the  young  savage  from  the 
ordained  mutilation.  Fear  of  the  frowns  and  taunts  of  his 
fellows  is  so  great  that  dissent  is  almost  unknown. 

It  is  thus,  too,  with  the  regulation  of  conduct.  The  pre- 
cepts of  the  religion  of  enmity  are,  in  early  stages  of  social 
development,  enforced  mainly  by  the  aid  of  this  ego-altru- 
istic sentiment.  The  duty  of  blood-revenge  is  made  impera- 
tive by  tribal  opinion.  Approval  comes  to  the  man  who, 
having  lost  a  relative,  never  ceases  his  pursuit  of  the  sup- 
posed murderer;  while  scowls  and  gibes  make  intolerable 
the  life  of  one  who  fails.  Similarly  with  the  fulfilment  of 
various  usages  that  have  become  established.  In  some  un- 
civilized societies  it  is  not  uncommon  for  a  man  to  ruin  him- 


66  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

self  by  a  funeral  feast ;  and  in  some  semi-civilized  societies, 
one  motive  for  killing  a  female  infant  is  avoidance  of  the 
future  cost  of  a  marriage  festival — a  cost  made  great  by 
the  prevailing  love  of  display. 

This  ego-altruistic  sentiment,  increasing  in  strength  as 
social  aggregation  advances,  is,  during  early  stages,  an  im- 
portant controlling  agency;  as,  indeed,  it  continues  still  to 
be.  Joined  with  sociality,  it  has  ever  been  a  power  helping 
to  bind  together  the  units  of  each  group,  and  tending  to 
cultivate  a  conduct  furthering  the  general  welfare.  Prob- 
ably a  kind  of  subordination  was  produced  by  it  before  there 
was  any  political  subordination;  and  in  some  cases  it  se- 
cures social  order  even  now.  Mr.  Wallace  says : — 

"  I  have  lived  with  communities  of  savages  in  South  America  and 
in  the  East,  who  have  no  laws  or  law  courts  but  the  public  opinion  of 
the  village  freely  expressed.  Each  man  scrupulously  respects  the 
rights  of  his  fellow,  and  any  infraction  of  those  rights  rarely  or  never 
takes  place.  In  such  a  community  all  are  nearly  equal." 

§  37.  Traits  of  the  primitive  nature  due  to  presence  or 
absence  of  the  altruistic  sentiments,  remain  to  be  glanced  at. 
Having  sympathy  for  their  root,  these  must,  on  the  hypothe- 
sis of  evolution,  develop  in  proportion  as  circumstances  make 
sympathy  active;  that  is — in  proportion  as  they  foster  the 
domestic  relations,  in  proportion  as  they  conduce  to  sociality, 
and  in  proportion  as  they  do  not  cultivate  aggressiveness. 

Evidence  for  and  against  this  a  priori  inference  is  diffi- 
cult to  disentangle  and  to  generalize.  Many  causes  conspire 
to  mislead  us.  We  assume  that  there  will  be  tolerably  uni- 
form manifestations  of  character  in  each  race;  but  we  are 
wrong.  Both  the  individuals  and  the  groups  differ  consider- 
ably; as  in  Australia,  where  one  tribe  "  is  decidedly  quiet," 
and  another  "  decidedly  disorderly."  We  assume  that  the 
traits  shown  will  be  similar  on  successive  occasions,  which 
they  are  not:  the  behaviour  to  one  traveller  is  unlike  the 
behaviour  to  another;  probably  because  their  own  behav- 
iours are  unlike.  Commonly,  too,  the  displays  of  character 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— EMOTIONAL.  67 

by  an  aboriginal  race  revisited,  depend  on  the  treatment 
received  from  previous  visitors :  being  changed  from  friend- 
liness to  enmity  by  painful  experiences.  Thus,  of  Australian 
travellers,  it  is  remarked  that  the  earlier  speak  more  favour- 
ably of  the  natives  than  the  later;  and  Earl  says  of  the 
Java  people,  that  those  inhabiting  parts  little  used  by  Euro- 
peans "  are  much  superior  in  point  of  morality  to  the  natives 
of  the  north  coast,"  whose  intercourse  with  Europeans  has 
been  greater.  When,  led  by  his  experiences  in  the  Pacific, 
Erskine  remarks,  "  nor  is  it  at  all  beyond  the  range  of  prob- 
ability that  habits  of  honesty  and  decorum  may  yet  be  forced 
upon  the  foreign  trader  by  those  whom  he  has  hitherto  been 
accustomed  to  consider  as  the  treacherous  and  irreclaimable 
savages  of  the  sandal-wood  islands;  "  when  we  learn  that 
in  Vate,  the  native  name  for  a  white  man  is  a  "  sailing  profli- 
gate; "  and  when  we  remember  that  worse  names  are  justi- 
fied by  recent  doings  in  those  regions ;  we  shall  understand 
how  conflicting  statements  about  native  characters  may  re- 
sult. 

Beyond  the  difficulty  hence  arising,  is  the  difficulty  aris- 
ing from  that  primitive  impulsiveness,  which  itself  causes  a 
variability  perplexing  to  one  who  would  form  a  conception 
of  the  average  nature.  As  Livingstone  says  of  the  Makololo 
— "  It  would  not  be  difficult  to  make  these  people  appear 
excessively  good  or  uncommonly  bad ;  "  and  the  inconsistent 
traits  above  quoted  from  Captain  Burton,  imply  a  parallel 
experience.  Hence  we  have  to  strike  an  average  among 
manifestations  naturally  chaotic,  which  are  further  distorted 
by  the  varying  relations  to  those  who  witness  them. 

We  may  best  guide  ourselves  by  taking,  first,  not  the 
altruistic  sentiments,  but  the  feeling  which  habitually  co- 
operates with  them — the  parental  instinct,  the  love  of  the 
helpless.  (Prin.  of  Psy.,  §  532.)  Of  necessity  the  lowest 
human  races,  in  common  with  inferior  animals,  have  large 
endowments  of  this.  Those  only  can  survive  in  posterity  in 
whom  the  love  of  offspring  prompts  due  care  of  offspring; 


68  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

and  among  the  savage,  the  self-sacrifice  required  is  as  great 
as  among  the  civilized.  Hence  the  fondness  for  children 
which  even  the  lowest  of  mankind  display;  though,  with 
their  habitual  impulsiveness,  they  often  join  with  it  great 
cruelty.  The  Fuegians,  described  as  "  very  fond  "  of  their 
children,  nevertheless  sell  them  to  the  Patagonians  for 
slaves.  Great  love  of  offspring  is  ascribed  to  the  New  Guinea 
people;  and  yet  a  man  will  "  barter  one  or  two  "  with  a 
trader  for  something  he  wants.  The  Australians,  credited 
by  Eyre  with  strong  parental  affection,  are  said  to  desert 
sick  children ;  and  Angas  asserts  of  them  that  on  the  Murray 
they  sometimes  kill  a  boy  to  bait  their  hooks  with  his  fat. 
Though  among  the  Tasmanians  the  parental  instinct  is 
described  as  strong,  yet  they  practised  infanticide;  and 
though,  among  the  Bushmen,  the  rearing  of  offspring  under 
great  difficulties  implies  much  devotion,  yet  Moffat  says  they 
"  kill  their  children  without  remorse  on  various  occasions." 
Omitting  further  proofs  of  parental  love  on  the  one  hand, 
qualified  on  the  other  by  examples  of  a  violence  which  will 
slay  a  child  for  letting  fall  something  it  was  carrying,  we 
may  safely  say  of  the  primitive  man  that  his  philoprogeni- 
tiveness  is  strong,  but  its  action,  like  that  of  his  emotions 
in  general,  irregular. 

Keeping  this  in  mind,  we  shall  be  aided  in  reconciling 
the  conflicting  accounts  of  his  excessive  egoism  and  his  fel- 
low feeling — his  cruelty  and  his  kindness.  The  Fuegians 
are  affectionate  towards  each  other;  and  yet  in  times  of 
scarcity  they  kill  the  old  women  for  food.  Mouat,  who 
describes  the  Andamanese  as  a  merciless  race,  nevertheless 
says  that  the  one  he  took  to  Calcutta  had  a  "  very  kind  and 
amiable  character."  Many  and  extreme  cruelties  are  proved 
against  the  Australians.  Yet  Eyre  testifies  to  their  kind- 
ness, their  self-sacrifice,  and  even  their  chivalry.  So,  too, 
of  the  Bushmen.  Lichtenstein  thinks  that  in  no  savage  is 
there  "  so  high  a  degree  of  brutal  ferocity ;  "  but  Moffat 
was  "  deeply  affected  by  the  sympathy  of  these  poor  Bush- 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— EMOTIONAL.  G9 

men,"  and  Burchell  says  that  they  show  to  each  other  "  hos- 
pitality and  generosity  often  in  an  extraordinary  degree." 
When  we  come  to  races  higher  in  social  state,  the  testimonies 
to  good  feeling  are  abundant.  The  New  Caledonians  are 
said  to  be  "  of  a  mild  and  good-natured  temper ;  "  the  Tan- 
nese  are  "  ready  to  do  any  service  that  lies  in  their  power;  " 
the  New  Guinea  people  are  "  good-natured,"  "  of  a  mild 
disposition."  Passing  from  Negritos  to  Malayo-Polyne- 
sians,  we  meet  with  like  characteristics.  The  epithets  ap- 
plied to  the  Sandwich  Islanders  are  "  mild,  docile;  "  to  the 
Tahitians,  "  cheerful  and  good-natured ;  "  to  the  Dyaks, 
"  genial;  "  to  the  Sea-Dyaks,  "  sociable  and  amiable;  "  to 
the  Javans,  "mild,"  "cheerful  and  good-humoured;"  to 
the  Malays  of  Northern  Celebes,  "  quiet  and  gentle."  We 
have,  indeed,  in  other  cases,  quite  opposite  descriptions.  In 
the  native  Brazilians,  revenge  is  said  to  be  the  predominant 
passion :  a  trapped  animal  they  kill  with  little  wounds  that 
it  may  "  suffer  as  much  as  possible."  A  leading  trait  ascribed 
to  the  Fijians  is  "  intense  and  vengeful  malignity."  Gal- 
ton  condemns  the  Damaras  as  "  worthless,  thieving,  and 
murderous,"  and  Andersson  as  "  unmitigated  scoundrels." 
In  some  cases  adjacent  tribes  show  us  these  opposite  natures; 
as  among  the  aborigines  of  India.  While  the  Bhils  are  re- 
puted to  be  cruel,  revengeful,  and  ready  to  play  the  assassin 
for  a  trifling  recompense,  the  Nagas  are  described  as  "  good- 
natured  and  honest ;  "  the  Bodo  and  Dhimal  as  "  full  of 
amiable  qualities,"  "  honest  and  truthful,"  "  totally  free 
from  arrogance,  revenge,  cruelty;  "  and  of  the  Lepcha,  Dr. 
Hooker  says  his  disposition  is  "  amiable,"  "  peaceful  and  no 
brawler:  "  thus  "  contrasting  strongly  with  his  neighbours 
to  the  east  and  west." 

Manifestly,  then,  uncivilized  man,  if  he  has  but  little 
active  benevolence,  is  not,  as  often  supposed,  distinguished 
by  active  malevolence.  Indeed,  a  glance  over  the  factvS 
tends  rather  to  show  that  while  wanton  cruelty  is  not  com- 
mon among  the  least  civilized,  it  is  common  among  the  more 
6 


70  THE  DATA  .OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

civilized.  The  sanguinary  Fijians  have  reached  a  consider- 
able social  development.  Burton  says  of  the  Fan  that 
"  cruelty  seems  to  be  with  him  a  necessary  of  life ;  "  and  yet 
the  Fans  have  advanced  arts  and  appliances,  and  live  in 
villages  having,  some  of  them,  four  thousand  inhabitants. 
In  Dahomey,  where  a  large  population  considerably  organ- 
ized exists,  the  love  for  bloodshed  leads  to  frequent  horrible 
sacrifices;  and  the  social  system  of  the  ancient  Mexicans, 
rooted  as  it  was  in  cannibalism,  and  yet  highly  evolved  in 
many  ways,  shows  us  that  it  is  not  the  lowest  races  which 
are  the  most  inhuman. 

Help  in  judging  the  moral  nature  of  savages  is  furnished 
by  the  remark  of  Mr.  Bates,  that  "  the  goodness  of  these 
Indians,  like  that  of  most  others  amongst  whom  I  lived,  con- 
sisted perhaps  more  in  the  absence  of  active  bad  qualities, 
than  in  the  possession  of  good  ones;  in  other  words,  it  was 
negative  rather  than  positive.  .  .  .  The  good-fellowship 
of  our  Cucamas  seemed  to  arise,  not  from  warm  sympathy, 
but  simply  from  the  absence  of  eager  selfishness  in  small 
matters."  And  we  shall  derive  further  help  in  reconciling 
what  seem  contradictory  traits,  by  observing  how  the  dog 
unites  great  affectionateness,  sociality,  and  even  sympathy, 
with  habitual  egoism  and  bursts  of  ferocity — how  he  passes 
readily  from  playful  friendliness  to  fighting,  and  while  at 
one  time  robbing  a  fellow  dog  of  his  food  will  at  another 
succour  him  in  distress. 

One  kind  of  evidence,  however,  there  is  which  amid  all 
these  conflicting  testimonies,  affords  tolerably-safe  guidance. 
The  habitual  behaviour  to  women  among  any  people,  indi- 
cates with  approximate  truth,  the  average  power  of  the 
altruistic  sentiments;  and  the  indication  thus  yielded  tells 
against  the  character  of  the  primitive  man.  The  actions  of 
the  stronger  sex  to  the  weaker  among  the  uncivilized  are 
frequently  brutal;  and  even  at  best  the  conduct  is  unsym- 
pathetic. That  slavery  of  women,  often  joined  with  cruelty 
to  them,  should  be  normal  among  savages,  accepted  as  right 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— EMOTIONAL.  ft 

not  by  men  only  but  by  women  themselves,  proves  that 
whatever  occasional  displays  of  altruism  there  may  be,  the 
ordinary  flow  of  altruistic  feeling  is  small. 

§  38.  A  summary  of  these  leading  emotional  traits  must 
be  prefaced  by  one  which  affects  all  the  others — the  fixity  of 
habit:  a  trait  connected  with  that  of  early  arrival  at  ma- 
turity, added  at  the  close  of  the  last  chapter.  The  primitive 
man  is  conservative  in  an  extreme  degree.  Even  on  con- 
trasting higher  races  with  one  another,  and  even  on  con- 
trasting different  classes  in  the  same  society,  it  is  observable 
that  the  least  developed  are  the  most  averse  to  change. 
Among  the  common  people  an  improved  method  is  difficult 
to  introduce;  and  even  a  new  kind  of  food  is  usually  dis- 
liked. The  uncivilized  man  is  thus  characterized  in  yet  a 
greater  degree.  His  simpler  nervous  system,  sooner  losing 
its  plasticity,  is  still  less  able  to  take  on  a  modified  mode  of 
action.  Hence  both  an  unconscious  adhesion,  and  an  avowed 
adhesion,  to  that  which  is  established.  "  Because  same  ting 
do  for  my  father,  same  ting  do  for  me,"  say  the  Houssa 
negroes.  The  Creek  Indians  laughed  at  those  who  suggested 
that  they  should  "  alter  their  long-established  customs  and 
habits  of  living."  Of  some  Africans  Livingstone  says — "  I 
often  presented  my  friends  with  iron  spoons,  and  it  was  curi- 
ous to  observe  how  the  habit  of  hand-eating  prevailed, 
though  they  were  delighted  with  the  spoons.  They  lifted 
out  a  little  [milk]  with  the  utensil,  then  put  it  on  the 
left  hand,  and  ate  it  out  of  that."  How  this  tendency 
leads  to  unchangeable  social  usuages,  is  well  shown  by 
the  Dyaks;  who,  as  Mr.  Tylor  says,  "  marked  their  disgust 
at  the  innovation  by  levying  a  fine  on  any  of  their  own 
people  who  should  be  caught  chopping  in  the  European 
fashion." 

Recapitulating  the  emotional  traits,  severally  made  more 
marked  by  this  relative  fixity  of  habit,  we  have  first  to  note 
the  impulsiveness  which,  pervading  the  conduct  of  primitive 


72  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

men,  so  greatly  impedes  co-operation.  That  "  wavering  and 
inconstant  disposition,"  which  commonly  makes  it  "  impos- 
sible to  put  any  dependence  on  their  promises,"  negatives 
that  mutual  trust  required  for  social  progress.  Governed 
as  he  is  by  despotic  emotions  that  successively  depose  one 
another,  instead  of  by  a  council  of  the  emotions  shared  in 
by  all,  the  primitive  man  has  an  explosive,  chaotic,  incal- 
culable behaviour,  which  makes  combined  action  very  dif- 
ficult. One  of  the  more  special  traits,  partly 
resulting  from  this  general  trait,  is  his  improvidence.  Im- 
mediate desire,  be  it  for  personal  gratification  or  for  the 
applause  which  generosity  brings,  excludes  fear  of  future 
evils;  while  pains  and  pleasures  to  come,  not  being  vividly 
conceived,  give  no  adequate  spur  to  exertion:  leaving  a 
light-hearted,  careless  absorption  in  the  present.  So- 
ciality, strong  in  the  civilized  man,  is  less  strong  in  the  sav- 
age man.  Among  the  lowest  types  the  groups  are  small, 
and  the  bonds  holding  their  units  together  are  relatively 
feeble.  Along  with  a  tendency  to  disruption  produced  by 
the  ill-controlled  passions  of  the  individuals,  there  goes  com- 
paratively little  of  the  sentiment  causing  cohesion.  So  that, 
among  men  carried  from  one  extreme  to  another  by  gusts  of 
feeling — men  often  made  very  irritable  by  hunger,  which,  as 
Livingstone  remarks,  "  has  a  powerful  effect  on  the  tem- 
per " — there  exists  at  once  a  smaller  tendency  to  cohere 
from  mutual  liking,  and  a  greater  tendency  to  resist  an  au- 
thority otherwise  causing  cohesion.  Though,  be- 
fore there  is  much  sociality,  there  cannot  be  much  love  of 
approbation ;  yet,  with  a  moderate  progress  in  social  group- 
ing, there  develops  this  simplest  of  the  higher  sentiments. 
The  great  and  immediate  benefits  brought  by  the  approval 
of  fellow-savages,  and  the  serious  evils  following  their  anger 
or  contempt,  are  experiences  which  foster  this  ego-altruistic 
sentiment  into  predominance.  And  by  it  some  subordina- 
tion to  tribal  opinion  is  secured,  and  some  consequent  regu- 
lation of  conduct,  even  before  there  arises  a  rudiment  of 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— EMOTIONAL.  73 

political  control.  In  social  groups  once  perma- 

nently formed,  the  bond  of  union — here  love  of  society, 
there  obedience  caused  by  awe  of  power,  elsewhere  a  dread 
of  penalties,  and  in  most  places  a  combination  of  these — 
may  go  along  with  a  very  variable  amount  of  altruistic  feel- 
ing. Though  sociality  fosters  sympathy,  yet  the  daily  doings 
of  the  primitive  man  repress  sympathy.  Active  fellow- 
feeling,  ever  awake  and  ever  holding  egoism  in  check,  does 
not  characterize  him;  as  we  see  conclusively  shown  by  the 
treatment  of  women.  And  that  highest  form  of  altruistic 
sentiment  distinguished  by  us  as  a  sense  of  justice,  is  very 
little  developed. 

These  emotional  traits  harmonize  with  those  which  we 
anticipated — a  less  extended  and  less  varied  correspondence 
with  the  environment,  less  representativeness,  less  remote- 
ness from  reflex  action.  The  cardinal  trait  of  impulsiveness 
implies  the  sudden,  or  approximately-reflex,  passing  of  a 
single  passion  into  the  conduct  it  prompts;  implies,  by  the 
absence  of  opposing  feelings,  that  the  consciousness  is 
formed  of  fewer  representations;  and  implies  that  the  ad- 
justment of  internal  actions  to  external  actions  does  not  take 
account  of  consequences  so  distant  in  space  and  time.  So 
with  the  accompanying  improvidence :  desire  goes  at  once  to 
gratification;  there  is  feeble  imagination  of  secondary  re- 
sults; remote  needs  are  not  met.  The  love  of  approbation 
which  grows  as  gregariousness  increases,  involves  increased 
representativeness:  instead  of  immediate  results  it  contem- 
plates results  a  stage  further  off;  instead  of  actions  prompt- 
ed by  single  desires,  there  come  actions  checked  and  modi- 
fied by  secondary  desires.  But  though  the  emotional  nature 
in  which  this  ego-altruistic  sentiment  becomes  dominant, 
is  made  by  its  presence  less  reflex,  more  representative,  and 
is  adjusted  to  wider  and  more  varied  requirements,  it  is  still, 
in  these  respects,  below  that  developed  emotional  nature  of 
the  civilized  man,  marked  by  activity  of  the  altruistic  senti- 
ments. Lacking  these,  the  primitive  man  lacks  the  benevo- 


THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 


lence  which  adjusts  conduct  for  the  benefit  of  others  distant 
in  space  and  time,  the  equity  which  implies  representation 
of  highly  complex  and  abstract  relations  among  human 
actions,  the  sense  of  duty  which  curbs  selfishness  when  there 
are  none  present  to  applaud. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    PRIMITIVE    MAN INTELLECTUAL. 

§  39.  THE  three  measures  of  mental  evolution  which,  in 
the  last  chapter,  helped  us  to  delineate  the  emotional  nature 
of  the  primitive  man,  will,  in  this  chapter,  help  us  to  de- 
lineate his  intellectual  nature.  And  further  to  aid  our- 
selves we  must  recall,  in  connexion  with  these  measures, 
those  traits  of  thought  which,  in  the  Principles  of  Psychol- 
ogy (§§  484 — 93),  were  shown  to  characterize  a  lower  evo- 
lution as  compared  with  a  higher. 

Conceptions  of  general  facts  being  derived  from  experi- 
ences of  particular  facts  and  coming  later,  are  deficient  in 
the  primitive  man.  Consciousness  of  a  general  truth  implies 
more  heterogeneous  correspondence  than  does  consciousness 
of  any  included  particular  truth;  it  implies  higher  repre- 
sentativeness, since  it  colligates  more  numerous  and  varied 
ideas;  and  it  is  more  remote  from  reflex  action — will  not, 
indeed,  of  itself,  excite  action  at  all.  Having  nq 

records,  man,  in  his  uncivilized  state,  cannot  recognize  long 
sequences.  Hence  prevision  of  distant  results,  such  as  is 
possible  in  a  settled  society  having  measures  and  written  lan- 
guage, is  impossible  to  him:  correspondence  in  time  comes 
within  narrow  limits.  The  representations  include  few  suc- 
cessions of  phenomena,  and  these  not  comprehensive  ones. 
And  there  is  but  a  moderate  departure  from  the  reflex  life 
in  which  stimulus  and  act  stand  in  immediate  connex- 
ion. Ignorant  of  localities  outside  his  own,  the 

75 


Y6  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

associations  of  ideas  the  primitive  man  forms  are  little  liable 
to  be  changed.  As  experiences  (multiplying  in  number, 
gathered  from  a  wider  area,  and  added  to  by  those  which 
other  men  record)  become  more  heterogeneous,  the  narrow 
notions  first  framed  are  shaken  and  made  more  plastic — 
there  comes  greater  modi/lability  of  belief.  In  his  relative 
rigidity  of  belief  we  see  a  smaller  correspondence  with  an 
environment  containing  adverse  facts;  less  of  that  repre- 
sentativeness which  simultaneously  grasps  and  averages 
much  evidence ;  and  a  smaller  divergence  from  those  lowest 
actions  in  which  impressions  cause,  irresistibly,  the  appro- 
priate motions.  Conditioned  as  he  is,  the  savage 
lacks  abstract  ideas.  Drawn  from  many  concrete  ideas,  an 
abstract  idea  becomes  detachable  from  them  only  as  fast  as 
their  variety  leads  to  mutual  cancellings  of  differences,  and 
leaves  outstanding  that  which  they  have  in  common.  This 
implies  growth  of  the  correspondence  in  range  and  hetero- 
geneity; wider  representation  of  the  concretes  whence  the 
idea  is  abstracted;  and  greater  remoteness  from  reflex 
action.  Such  abstract  ideas  as  those  of  property  and  cause, 
belong  to  a  still  higher  stage.  For  only  after  many  special 
properties  and  many  special  causes  have  been  abstracted, 
can  there  arise  the  re-abstracted  ideas  of  property  in  general 
and  cause  in  general.  The  conception  of  uniform- 
ity in  the  order  of  phenomena,  develops  simultaneously. 
Only  along  with  the  use  of  measures  does  there  grow  up 
the  means  of  ascertaining  uniformity ;  and  only  after  a  great 
accumulation  of  measured  results  does  the  idea  of  law  be- 
come possible.  Here,  again,  the  indices  of  mental  evolu- 
tion serve.  The  conception  of  natural  order  presupposes 
an  advanced  correspondence;  it  involves  re-representative- 
ness in  a  high  degree;  and  the  implied  divergence  from 
reflex  action  is  extreme.  Until  the  notion  of  uni- 
formity has  developed  along  with  the  use  of  measures, 
thought  cannot  have  much  definiteness.  In  primitive  life, 
there  is  little  to  yield  the  idea  of  agreement;  and  so  long 


THE  PRIMITIVE   MAN— INTELLECTUAL.  77 

as  there  are  few  experiences  of  exact  equality  between  ob- 
jects, or  perfect  conformity  between  statements  and  facts, 
or  complete  fulfilment  of  anticipations  by  results,  the  notion 
of  truth  cannot  become  clear.  Once  more  our  general  tests 
answer.  The  conception  of  truth,  being  the  conception  of 
correspondence  between  Thoughts  and  Things,  implies  ad- 
vance of  that  correspondence;  it  involves  representations 
which  are  higher,  as  being  better  adjusted  to  realities;  and 
its  growth  causes  a  decrease  of  the  primitive  credulity  allied 
to  reflex  action — allied,  since  it  shows  us  single  suggestions 
producing  sudden  beliefs  which  forthwith  issue  in  conduct. 
Add  that  only  as  this  conception  of  truth  advances,  and 
therefore  the  correlative  conception  of  untruth,  can  scep- 
ticism and  criticism  grow  common.  Lastly, 
such  imagination  as  the  primitive  man  has,  small  in  range 
and  heterogeneity,  is  reminiscent  only,  not  constructive. 
An  imagination  which  invents,  shows  extension  of  the  cor- 
respondence from  the  region  of  the  actual  into  that  of  the 
potential;  implies  a  representativeness  not  limited  to  com- 
binations which  have  been,  or  are,  in  the  environment,  but 
including  non-existing  combinations  thereafter  made  to 
exist;  and  exhibits  the  greatest  remoteness  from  reflex 
action,  since  the  stimulus  issuing  in  movement  is  unlike  any 
that  ever  before  acted. 

And  now,  having  enumerated  these  leading  traits  of  in- 
tellectual evolution  in  its  latter  stages,  as  deduced  from 
psychological  principles,  we  are  prepared  to  observe  the 
significance  of  the  facts  as  described  by  travellers. 

§  40.  Testimonies  to  the  acute  senses  and  quick  percep- 
tions of  the  uncivilized,  are  given  by  nearly  everyone  who 
describes  them. 

Lichtenstein  says  the  vision  of  the  Bushman  is  tele- 
scopic; and  Barrow  speaks  of  his  "  keen  eye  always  in  mo- 
tion." Of  Asiatics  may  be  named  the  Karens,  who  see  as  far 
with  naked  eyes  as  we  do  with  opera-glasses;  and  the  in- 


78  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

habitants  of  the  Siberian  steppes  are  celebrated  for  their 
"  distant  and  perfect  sight."  Of  the  Brazilians,  TIerndon 
writes — "  The  Indians  have  very  keen  senses,  and  see  and 
hear  things  that  are  inaudible  and  invisible  to  us;  "  and  the 
like  is  remarked  of  the  Tupis.  The  Abipones,  "  like  apes, 
are  always  in  motion;  "  and  Dobrizhoffer  asserts  that  they 
discern  things  which  escape  "  the  most  quick-sighted  Eu- 
ropean." Respecting  hearing,  too,  there  is  similar,  if  less 
abundant,  evidence.  All  have  read  of  the  feats  of  North 
American  Indians  in  detecting  faint  sounds;  and  the  acute 
hearing  of  the  Veddahs  is  shown  by  their  habit  of  finding 
bees'  nests  by  the  hum. 

Still  more  abundant  are  the  testimonies  respecting  their 
active  and  minute  observation.  "  Excellent  superficial  ob- 
servers," is  the  characterization  Palgrave  gives  of  the  Bed- 
ouins. Burton  refers  to  the  "  high  organization  of  the  per- 
ceptive faculties  "  among  them ;  and  Petherick  proved,  by 
a  test,  their  marvellous  powers  of  tracking.  In  South  Africa 
the  Hottentots  show  astonishing  quickness  "  in  everything 
relating  to  cattle;  "  and  Galton  says  the  Damaras  "  have  a 
wonderful  faculty  of  recollecting  any  ox  that  they  have 
once  seen."  It  is  the  same  in  America.  Burton,  speaking 
of  the  Prairie  Indians,  comments  on  the  "  development  of 
the  perceptions  which  is  produced  by  the  constant  and  mi- 
nute observations  of  a  limited  number  of  objects."  In- 
stances are  given  showing  what  exact  topographers  the 
Chippewayans  are ;  and  the  like  is  alleged  of  the  Dakotahs. 
Bates  notices  the  extraordinary  "  sense  of  locality  "  of  the 
Brazilian  Indians.  Concerning  the  Arawaks,  Hillhouse 
says —  '  Where  an  European  can  discover  no  indication 
whatever,  an  Indian  will  point  out  the  footsteps  of  any 
number  of  negroes,  and  will  state  the  precise  day  on  which 
they  have  passed ;  and  if  on  the  same  day  he  will  state  the 
hour."  A  member  of  a  Guiana  tribe  "  will  tell  how  many 
men,  women,  and  children  have  passed,  where  a  stranger 
could  only  see  faint  and  confused  marks  on  the  path." 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— INTELLECTUAL.  79 

"  Here  passes  one  who  does  not  belong  to  our  village,"  said 
a  native  of  Guiana  searching  for  tracks;  and  Schomburgh 
adds  that  their  power  "  borders  on  the  magical." 

Along  with  this  acuteness  of  perception  there  naturally 
goes  great  skill  in  those  actions  depending  on  immediate 
guidance  of  perception.  The  Esquimaux  show  great  dex- 
terity in  all  manual  works.  Kolben  asserts  that  the  Hot- 
tentots are  very  dexterous  in  the  use  of  their  weapons.  Of 
the  Fuegians  it  is  said  that  "  their  dexterity  with  the  sling 
is  extraordinary."  The  skill  of  the  Andamanese  is  shown 
in  their  unerring  shots  with  arrows  at  forty  or  fifty  yards. 
Tongans  "  are  great  adepts  in  managing  their  canoes."  The 
accuracy  with  which  an  Australian  propels  a  spear  with  his 
thro  wing-stick,  is  remarkable;  while  all  have  heard  of  his 
feats  with  the  boomerang.  And  from  the  Hill-tribes  of 
India,  the  Santals  may  be  singled  out  as  so  "  very  expert 
with  the  bow  and  arrow  "  that  they  kill  birds  on  the  wing, 
and  knock  over  hares  at  full  speed. 

Recognizing  some  exceptions  to  this  expertness,  as 
among  the  now-extinct  Tasmanians  and  the  Veddahs  of 
Ceylon;  and  observing  that  survival  of  the  fittest  must  ever 
have  tended  to  establish  these  traits  among  men  whose  lives 
from  hour  to  hour  depended  on  their  keen  senses,  quick 
observations,  and  efficient  uses  of  their  weapons;  we  have 
here  to  note  this  trait  as  significant  in  its  implications.  For 
in  virtue  of  a  general  antagonism  between  the  activities  of 
simple  faculties  and  the  activities  of  complex  faculties,  this 
dominance  of  the  lower  intellectual  life  hinders  the  higher 
intellectual  life.  In  proportion  as  the  mental  energies  go 
out  in  restless  perception,  they  cannot  go  out  in  deliberate 
thought.  This  truth  we  will  contemplate  from  another 
point  of  view. 

§  41.  Xot  having  special  senses  by  which  to  discrimi- 
nate, the  worm  swallows  bodily  the  mould  containing  vegetal 
matter  partially  decayed:  leaving  its  alimentary  canal  to 


80  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

absorb  what  nutriment  it  can,  and  to  eject,  in  the  shape  of 
worm-cast,  the  95  per  cent,  or  so  that  is  innutritive.  Con- 
versely, the  higher  annulose  creature,  with  special  senses, 
as  the  bee,  selects  from  plants  concentrated  nutritive  mat- 
ters wherewith  to  feed  its  larvae,  or,  as  the  spider,  sucks  the 
ready-prepared  juices  from  the  flies  it  entraps.  The  progress 
from  the  less  intelligent  to  the  more  intelligent  and  the  most 
intelligent  among  the  Vertebrata,  is  similarly  accompanied 
by  increasing  ability  in  the  selection  of  food.  By  herbivor- 
ous mammals  the  comparatively  innutritive  parts  of  plants 
have  to  be  devoured  in  great  quantities,  that  the  requisite 
amounts  of  nutriment  may  be  obtained;  while  carnivorous 
animals,  which  are  mostly  more  sagacious,  live  on  concen- 
trated foods  of  which  small  quantities  suffice.  Though  the 
monkey  and  the  elephant  are  not  carnivorous,  yet  both  have 
powers  which,  certainly  by  the  one  and  probably  by  the 
other,  are  used  in  choosing  the  nutritive  parts  of  plants  when 
these  are  to  be  had.  Coming  to  mankind,  we  observe  that 
the  diet  is  of  the  most  concentrated  kind  obtainable;  but 
that  the  uncivilized  man  is  less  choice  in  his  diet  than  the 
civiMzed.  And  then  among  the  highly  civilized  the  most 
nutritive  food  is  carefully  separated  from  the  rest:  even  to 
the  extent  that  at  table  fragments  of  inferior  quality  are 
uneaten. 

My  purpose  in  naming  these  seemingly-irrelevant  con- 
trasts, is  to  point  out  the  analogy  between  progress  in  bodily 
nutrition  and  progress  in  mental  nutrition.  The  psychically 
higher,  like  the  physically  higher,  have  greater  powers  of 
selecting  materials  fit  for  assimilation.  Just  as  by  appear- 
ance, texture,  and  odour,  the  superior  animal  is  guided  in 
choosing  food,  and  swallows  only  things  which  contain  much 
organizable  matter;  so  the  superior  mind,  aided  by  what 
we  may  figuratively  call  intellectual  scent,  passes  by  multi- 
tudes of  unorganizable  facts,  but  quickly  detects  facts  full 
of  significance,  and  takes  them  in  as  materials  out  of  which 
cardinal  truths  may  be  elaborated.  The  less-developed  in- 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— INTELLECTUAL.  81 

telligences,  unable  to  decompose  these  more  complex  facts 
and  assimilate  their  components,  and  having  therefore  no 
appetites  for  them,  devour  with  avidity  facts  which  are 
mostly  valueless;  and  out  of  the  vast  mass  absorb  very  little 
that  helps  to  form  general  conceptions.  Concentrated  diet 
furnished  by  the  experiments  of  the  physicist,  the  investiga- 
tions of  the  political  economist,  the  analyses  of  the  psycholo- 
gist, is  intolerable  to  them,  indigestible  by  them;  but  in- 
stead, they  swallow  with  greediness  the  trivial  details  of 
table-talk,  the  personalities  of  fashionable  life,  the  garbage 
of  the  police  and  divorce  courts;  while  their  reading,  in  ad- 
dition to  trashy  novels,  includes  memoirs  of  mediocrities, 
volumes  of  gossiping  correspondence,  with  an  occasional  his- 
tory, from  which  they  carry  away  a  few  facts  about  battles 
and  the  doings  of  conspicuous  men.  By  such  minds,  this 
kind  of  intellectual  provender  is  alone  available;  and  to 
feed  them  on  a  higher  kind  would  be  as  impracticable  as  to 
feed  a  cow  on  meat. 

Suppose  this  contrast  exaggerated — suppose  the  descent 
from  the  higher  to  the  lower  intellects  among  ourselves,  to 
be  continued  by  a  second  descent  of  like  kind,  and  we  get 
to  the  intellect  of  the  primitive  man.  A  still  greater  atten- 
tion to  meaningless  details,  and  a  still  smaller  ability  to  se- 
lect facts  from  which  conclusions  may  be  drawn,-  characterize 
the  savage.  Multitudes  of  simple  observations  are  inces- 
santly made  by  him ;  but  such  few  as  have  significance,  lost 
in  the  mass  of  insignificant  ones,  pass  through  his  mind  with- 
out leaving  behind  any  data  for  thoughts,  worthy  to  be  so 
called.  Already  in  a  foregoing  section,  the  extreme  per- 
ceptive activity  of  the  lowest  races  has  been  illustrated ;  and 
here  may  be  added  a  few  illustrations  showing  the  reflective 
inactivity  going  along  with  it.  Of  the  Brazilian  Indian  Mr. 
Bates  remarks — "  I  believe  he  thinks  of  nothing  except  the 
matters  that  immediately  concern  his  daily  material  wants." 
"  He  observes  well,  but  he  can  deduce  nothing  profitable 
from  his  perceptions,"  says  Burton,  describing  the  East 


82  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

African;  and  he  adds  that  the  African's  mind  "  will  not, 
and  apparently  cannot,  escape  from  the  circle  of  sense,  nor 
will  it  occupy  itself  with  aught  but  the  present."  Still  more 
definite  testimony  is  there  respecting  the  Damara,  "  who 
never  generalizes."  Mr.  Galton  states  that  one  "  who  knew 
the  road  perfectly  from  A  to  B  and  again  from  B  to  C  would 
have  no  idea  of  a  straight  cut  from  A  to  C :  he  has  no  map 
of  the  country  in  his  mind,  but  an  infinity  of  local  details." 
Even  the  Bedouin,  as  Mr.  Palgrave  remarks,  "  judges  of 
things  as  he  sees  them  present  before  him,  not  in  their  causes 
or  consequences."  Some  semi-civilized  peoples,  as  the  Ta- 
hitians,  Sandwich-Islanders,  Javans,  Sumatrans,  Malagasy, 
do,  indeed,  manifest  "  quickness  of  apprehension,  .  .  . 
penetration  and  sagacity."  But  it  is  in  respect  of  simple 
things  that  their  powers  are  shown ;  as  witness  the  assertion 
of  Mr.  Ellis  concerning  the  Malagasy,  that  "  facts,  anec- 
dotes, occurrences,  metaphors,  or  fables,  relating  to  or  de- 
rived from  sensible  and  visible  objects,  appear  to  form  the 
basis  of  most  of  their  mental  exercises."  And  how  general 
is  this  trait  of  unreflectiveness  among  inferior  races,  is  im- 
plied by  Dr.  Pickering's  statement  that,  in  the  course  of 
much  travel,  the  Eijians  were  the  only  savage  people  he  had 
met  with  who  could  give  reasons,  and  with  whom  it  was  pos- 
sible to  hold  a  connected  conversation. 

§  42.  "  The  eccentricity  of  genius  "  is  a  current  phrase 
implying  the  experience  that  men  of  original  powers  are 
prone  to  act  in  ways  unlike  ordinary  ways.  To  do  what  the 
world  does,  is  to  guide  behaviour  by  imitation.  Deviating 
from  ordinary  usages  is  declining  to  imitate.  And  the 
noticeable  fact  is  that  a  smaller  tendency  to  imitate  goes 
along  with  a  greater  tendency  to  evolve  new  ideas.  Under 
its  converse  aspect  we  may  trace  this  relationship  back 
through  early  stages  of  civilization.  There  was  but  little 
originality  in  the  middle  ages;  and  there  was  but  little 
tendency  to  deviate  from  the  modes  of  living  established  for 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— INTELLECTUAL.  83 

the  various  ranks.  Still  more  was  it  so  in  the  extinct  socie- 
ties of  the  East.  Ideas  were  fixed;  and  prescription  was 
irresistible. 

Among  the  partially-civilized  races,  we  find  imitative- 
ness  a  marked  trait.  Everyone  has  heard  of  the  ways  in 
which  jSTegroes,  when  they  have  opportunities,  dress  and 
swagger  in  grotesque  mimicry  of  the  whites.  A  character- 
istic of  the  New  Zealanders  is  an  aptitude  for  imitation.  The 
Dyaks,  too,  show  "  love  of  imitation;  "  and  of  other  Ma- 
layo-Polynesians  the  like  is  alleged.  Mason  says  that "  while 
the  Karens  originate  nothing  they  show  as  great  a  capabil- 
ity to  imitate  as  the  Chinese."  We  read  that  the  Kam- 
schadales  have  a  "peculiar  talent  of  mimicking  men  and 
animals;  "  that  the  Nootka-Sound  people  "  are  very  in- 
genious in  imitating;  "  that  the  Mountain  Snake  Indians 
imitate  animal  sounds  "  to  the  utmost  perfection."  South 
America  yields  like  evidence.  Herndon  was  astonished  at 
the  mimetic  powers  of  the  Brazilian  Indians.  Wilkes 
speaks  of  the  Patagonians  as  "  admirable  mimics."  And 
Dobrizhoffer  joins  with  his  remark  that  the  Guaranis  can 
imitate  exactly,  the  further  remark  that  they  bungle  stupid- 
ly if  you  leave  anything  to  their  intelligence.  But  it  is 
among  the  lowest  races  that  proneness  to  mimicry  is  most 
conspicuous.  Several  travellers  have  commented  on  the 
"  extraordinary  tendency  to  imitate  "  shown  by  the  Fue- 
gians.  They  will  repeat  with  perfect  correctness  each  word 
in  any  sentence  addressed  to  them — mimicking  the  manner 
and  attitude  of  the  speaker.  So,  too,  according  to  Mouat, 
the  Andamanese  show  high  imitative  powers ;  and,  like  the 
Fuegians,  repeat  a  question  instead  of  answering  it.  Sturt 
gives  a  kindred  account  of  the  South  Australians,  who,  he 
says,  "  evinced  a  strange  perversity  "  "  in  repeating  words  " 
which  "  they  knew  were  meant  as  questions." 

In  this  imitativeness,  shown  least  by  the  highest  mem- 
bers of  civilized  races  and  most  by  the  lowest  savages,  we 
see  again  the  antagonism  between  perceptive  activity  and 


84  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

reflective  activity.  Among  inferior  gregarious  creatures,  as 
rooks  that  rise  in  a  flock  when  one  rises,  or  as  sheep  that  fol- 
low a  leader  in  leaping,  we  see  an  almost  automatic  repeti- 
tion of  actions  witnessed  in  others;  and  this  peculiarity, 
common  to  the  lowest  human  types — this  tendency  to  "  ape  " 
others,  as  we  significantly  call  it — implies  a  smaller  de- 
parture from  the  brute  type  of  mind.  It  shows  us  a  mental 
action  which  is,  from  moment  to  moment,  chiefly  deter- 
mined by  outer  incidents;  and  is  therefore  but  little  deter- 
mined by  causes  involving  excursiveness  of  thought,  im- 
agination, and  original  idea. 

§  43.  Our  conception  of  the  primitive  man — intellec- 
tual, will  grow  clearer  when,  with  the  above  inductions,  we 
join  illustrations  of  his  feeble  grasp  of  thought. 

Common  speech  fails  to  distinguish  between  mental  ac- 
tivities of  different  grades.  A  boy  is  called  clever  who  takes 
in  simple  ideas  rapidly,  though  he  may  prove  incapable  of 
taking  in  complex  ideas;  and  a  boy  is  condemned  as  stupid 
because  he  is  slow  in  rote-learning,  though  he  may  appre- 
hend abstract  truths  more  quickly  than  his  teacher.  Con- 
trasts of  this  nature  must  be  recognized,  if  we  would  inter- 
pret the  conflicting  evidence  respecting  the  capacities  of  the 
uncivilized.  Even  of  the  Fuegians  we  read  that  they  "  are 
not  usually  deficient  in  intellect ; "  even  the  Andamanese  are 
described  as  "  excessively  quick  and  clever;  "  and  the  Aus- 
tralians are  said  to  be  as  intelligent  as  our  own  peasants. 
But  the  ability  thus  referred  to  as  possessed  by  men  of  the 
lowest  types,  is  one  for  which  the  simpler  faculties  suffice ; 
and  goes  along  with  inability  when  any  demand  is  made  on 
the  complex  faculties.  A  passage  which  Sir  John  Lubbock 
quotes  from  Mr.  Sproat's  account  of  the  Ahts  may  be  taken 
as  descriptive  of  the  average  state: — 

"The  native  mind,  to  an  educated  man,  seems  generally  to  be 
asleep.  ...  On  his  attention  being  fully  aroused,  he  often  shows 
much  quickness  in  reply  and  ingenuity  in  argument.  But  a  short 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— INTELLECTUAL.  85 

conversation  wearies  him,  particularly  if  questions  are  asked  that  re- 
quire efforts  of  thought  or  memory  on  his  part.  The  mind  of  the 
savage  then  appears  to  rock  to  and  fro  out  of  mere  weakness." 
Spix  and  Martius  tell  us  of  the  Brazilian  Indian  that 
"  scarcely  has  one  begun  to  question  him  about  his  language, 
when  he  grows  impatient,  complains  of  headache,  and  shows 
that  he  is  unable  to  bear  the  exertion;  "  and  according  to 
Mr.  Bates,  "  it  is  difficult  to  get  at  their  notions  on  subjects 
that  require  a  little  abstract  thought."  When  the  Abipones 
"  are  unable  to  comprehend  anything  at  first  sight,  they 
soon  grow  weary  of  examining  it,  and  cry — l  What  is  it  after 
all  ? '  It  is  the  same  with  Xegroes.  Burton  says  of  the 
East  Africans,  "  ten  minutes  sufficed  to  weary  out  the  most 
intellectual "  when  questioned  about  their  system  of  num- 
bers. And  even  of  so  comparatively  superior  a  race  as  the 
Malagasy,  it  is  remarked  that  they  "  do  not  seem  to  possess 
the  qualities  of  mind  requisite  for  close  and  continued 
thought." 

On  observing  that  to  frame  the  idea  of  a  species,  say 
trout,  it  is  needful  to  think  of  the  characters  common  to  trout 
of  different  sizes,  and  that  to  conceive  of  fish  as  a  class,  we 
must  imagine  various  kinds  of  fish,  and  see  mentally  the 
likenesses  which  unite  them  notwithstanding  their  unlike- 
nesses;  we  perceive  that,  rising  from  the  consciousness  of 
individual  objects  to  the  consciousness  of  species,  and  again 
to  the  consciousness  of  genera,  and  orders,  and  classes,  each 
further  step  implies  mo-re  power  of  mentally  grouping 
numerous  things  with  approximate  simultaneity.  And  per- 
ceiving this,  we  may  understand  why,  lacking  the  needful 
representativeness,  the  mind  of  the  savage  is  soon  exhausted 
with  any  thought  above  the  simplest.  Excluding  those  re- 
ferring to  individual  objects,  our  most  familiar  propositions, 
such  even  as  "  Plants  are  green,"  or  "  Animals  grow,"  are 
propositions  never  definitely  framed  in  his  consciousness; 
because  he  has  no  idea  of  a  plant  or  an  animal,  apart  from 
kind.  And  of  course  until  he  has  become  familiar  with  gen- 
7 


86  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

eral  ideas  and  abstract  ideas  of  the  lowest  grades,  those  a 
grade  higher  in  generality  and  abstractness  are  inconceiv- 
able by  him.  This  will  be  elucidated  by  an  illustration  taken 
from  Mr.  Galton's  account  of  the  Damaras,  showing  how 
the  concrete,  made  to  serve  in  place  of  the  abstract  as  far  as 
possible,  soon  fails,  and  leaves  the  mind  incapable  of  higher 
thought : — 

"  They  puzzle  very  much  after  five  [in  counting],  because  no  spare 
hand  remains  to  grasp  and  secure  the  fingers  that  are  required  for 
units.  Yet  they  seldom  lose  oxen ;  the  way  in  which  they  discover 
the  loss  of  one  is  not  by  the  number  of  the  herd  being  diminished, 
but  by  the  absence  of  a  face  they  know.  When  bartering  is  going 
on,  each  sheep  must  be  paid  for  separately.  Thus,  suppose  two  sticks 
of  tobacco  to  be  the  rate  of  exchange  for  one  sheep,  it  would  sorely 
puzzle  a  Damara  to  take  two  sheep  and  give  him  four  sticks.1' 

This  mental  state  is,  in  another  direction,  exemplified  by 
the  statement  of  Mr.  Hodgson  concerning  the  Hill-tribes  of 
India.  "  Light,"  he  says,  "  is  a  high  abstraction  which  none 
of  my  informants  can  grasp,  though  they  readily  give  equiva- 
lents for  sunshine  and  candle  or  fire-flame."  And  Spix  and 
Martius  further  exemplify  it  when  they  say  that  it  would  be 
vain  to  seek  in  the  language  of  the  Brazilian  Indians  "  words 
for  the  abstract  ideas  of  plant,  animal,  and  the  still  more 
abstract  notions,  colour,  tone,  sex,  species,  etc. ;  such  a  gen- 
eralization of  ideas  is  found  among  them  only  in  the  fre- 
quently used  infinitive  of  the  verbs  to  walk,  to  eat,  to  drink, 
to  dance,  to  sing,  to  hear,  etc." 

§  44.  JsTot  until  there  is  formed  a  general  idea,  by  colli- 
gating many  special  ideas  which  have  a  common  trait  amid 
their  differences — not  until  there  follows  the  possibility  of 
connecting  in  thought  this  common  trait  with  some  other 
trait  also  possessed  in  common,  can  there  arise  the  idea  of  a 
causal  relation;  and  not  until  many  different  causal  rela- 
tions have  been  observed,  can  there  result  the  conception 
of  causal  relation  in  the  abstract.  By  the  primitive  man, 
therefore,  such  distinction  as  we  make  between  natural  and 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— INTELLECTUAL.  87 

unnatural  cannot  be  made.  Just  as  the  child,  ignorant  of  the 
course  of  things,  gives  credence  to  an  impossible  fiction  as 
readily  as  to  a  familiar  fact;  so  the  savage,  similarly  with- 
out classified  and  systematized  knowledge,  feels  no  incon- 
gruity between  any  absurd  falsehood  propounded  to  him  and 
some  general  truth  which  we  class  as  established:  there 
being,  for  him,  no  such  established  general  truth. 

Hence  his  credulity.  If  the  young  Indian  takes  as  his 
totem,  and  thereafter  regards  as  sacred,  the  first  animal  he 
dreams  about  during  a  fast — if  the  Xegro,  when  bent  on  an 
important  undertaking,  chooses  for  a  god  to  help  him  the 
first  object  he  sees  on  going  out,  and  sacrifices  to  it  and  prays 
to  it — if  the  Veddah,  failing  in  a  shot  with  his  arrow,  as- 
cribes the  failure  not  to  a  bad  aim  but  to  insufficient  pro- 
pitiation of  his  deity;  we  must  regard  the  implied  convic- 
tions as  normal  accompaniments  of  a  mental  state  in  which 
the  organization  of  experiences  has  not  gone  far  enough  to 
evolve  the  idea  of  natural  causation. 

§  45.  Absence  of  the  idea  of  natural  causation,  implies 
absence  of  rational  surprise. 

Until  there  has  been  reached  the  belief  that  certain  con- 
nexions in  things  are  constant,  there  can  be  no  astonishment 
on  meeting  with  cases  seemingly  at  variance  with  this  belief. 
The  behaviour  of  the  uncultivated  among  ourselves  teaches 
us  this.  Show  to  a  rustic  a  remarkable  experiment,  such  as 
the  rise  of  liquid  in  a  capillary  tube,  or  the  spontaneous 
boiling  of  warm  water  in  an  exhausted  receiver,  and  instead 
of  the  amazement  you  expected  he  shows  a  vacant  indif- 
ference. That  which  struck  you  with  wonder  when  first  you 
saw  it,  because  apparently  irreconcilable  with  your  general 
ideas  of  physical  processes,  does  not  seem  wonderful  to  him, 
because  he  is  without  those  general  ideas.  And  now  if  we 
suppose  the  rustic  divested  of  what  general  ideas  he  has,  and 
the  causes  of  surprise  thus  made  still  fewer,  we  get  the 
mental  state  of  the  primitive  man. 


88  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

Of  the  lowest  races,  disregard  of  novelties  is  almost 
uniformly  alleged.  According  to  Cook,  the  Fuegians  showed 
utter  indifference  in  presence  of  things  that  were  entirely 
new  to  them.  The  same  voyager  observed  in  the  Australians 
a  like  peculiarity;  and  Dampier  says  those  he  had  on  board 
"  did  not  notice  anything  else  in  the  ship  "  than  what  they 
had  to  eat.  So,  too,  the  Tasmanians  were  characterized  by 
Cook's  surgeon  as  exhibiting  no  surprise.  Wallis  asserts  of 
the  Patagonians,  that  they  showed  the  most  "  unaccount- 
able indifference  "  to  everything  around  them  on  shipboard ; 
even  the  looking-glass,  though  it  afforded  great  diversion, 
excited  no  astonishment ;  and  AVilkes  describes  like  conduct. 
I  also  find  it  stated  of  the  village  Veddahs  that  two  of  them 
"  showed  no  surprise  at  a  looking-glass."  And  of  the  Sa- 
moiedes  we  read  that  "  nothing  but  the  looking-glasses 
caused  any  surprise  in  them  for  an  instant ;  again  a  moment 
and  this  ceased  to  draw  their  attention." 

§  46.  Along  with  absence  of  surprise  there  goes  absence 
of  curiosity;  and  where  there  is  least  faculty  of  thought, 
even  astonishment  may  be  excited  without  causing  inquiry. 
Illustrating  this  trait  in  the  Bushmen,  Burchell  says — "  I 
showed  them  a  looking-glass;  at  this  they  laughed,  and 
stared  with  vacant  surprise  and  wonder  to  see  their  own 
faces;  but  expressed  not  the  least  curiosity  about  it."  Where 
curiosity  exists  we  find  it  among  races  of  not  so  low  a  grade. 
That  of  the  New  Caledonians  was  remarked  by  Cook;  and 
that  of  the  New  Guinea  people  by  Earl  and  by  Jukes.  Still 
more  decided  is  an  inquiring  nature  among  the  relatively- 
advanced  Malayo-Polynesians.  According  to  Boyle,  the 
Dyaks  have  an  insatiable  curiosity.  The  Samoans,  too,  "  are 
usually  very  inquisitive;  "  and  the  Tahitians  "  are  remark- 
ably curious  and  inquisitive." 

Evidently  this  absence  of  desire  for  information  about 
new  things,  which  characterizes  the  lowest  mental  state,  pre- 
vents the  growth  of  that  generalized  knowledge  which  makes 


THE   PRIMITIVE  MAN— INTELLECTUAL.  89 

rational  surprise,  and  consequent  rational  inquisitiveness, 
possible.  If  his  "  want  of  curiosity  is  extreme,"  as  Mr.  Bates 
says  of  the  Cucama  Indian,  the  implication  is  that  he  "  trou- 
bles himself  very  little  concerning  the  causes  of  the  natural 
phenomena  around  him."  Lacking  ability  to  think,  and 
the  accompanying  desire  to  know,  the  savage  is  without  tend- 
ency to  speculate.  Even  when  there  is  raised  such  a  ques- 
tion as  that  often  put  by  Park  to  the  Negroes — "  What  be- 
came of  the  sun  during  the  night,  and  whether  we  should  see 
the  same  sun,  or  a  different  one,  in  the  morning,"  no  reply 
is  forthcoming.  "  I  found  that  they  considered  the  question 
as  very  childish:  .  .  .  they  had  never  indulged  a  conjec- 
ture, nor  formed  any  hypothesis,  about  the  matter." 

The  general  fact  thus  exemplified  is  one  quite  at  vari- 
ance with  current  ideas  respecting  the  thoughts  of  the  primi- 
tive man.  He  is  commonly  pictured  as  theorizing  about 
surrounding  appearances ;  whereas,  in  fact,  the  need  for  ex- 
planations of  them  does  not  occur  to  him. 

§  47.  One  more  general  trait  must  be  named — I  mean 
the  lack  of  constructive  imagination.  This  lack  naturally 
goes  along  with  a  life  of  simple  perception,  of  imitativeness, 
of  concrete  ideas,  and  of  incapacity  for  abstract  ideas. 

The  collection  of  implements  and  weapons  arranged  by 
General  Pitt-Rivers,  to  show  their  relationships  to  a  common 
original,  suggests  that  primitive  men  are  not  to  be  credited 
with  such  inventiveness  as  even  their  simple  appliances  seem 
to  indicate.  These  have  arisen  by  small  modifications;  and 
the  natural  selection  of  such  modifications  has  led  unobtru- 
sively to  various  kinds  of  appliances,  without  any  distinct 
devising  of  them. 

Evidence  of  another  kind,  but  of  like  meaning,  is  fur- 
nished by  Sir  Samuel  Baker's  paper  on  the  "  Races  of  the 
Xile  Basin,"  in  which  he  points  out  that  the  huts  of  the  re- 
spective tribes  are  as  constant  in  their  types  as  are  the  ne?ts 
of  birds:  each  tribe  of  the  one,  like  each  species  of  the  other, 


90  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

having  a  peculiarity.  The  like  permanent  differences  he 
says  hold  among  their  head-dresses;  and  he  further  asserts 
of  head-dresses,  as  of  huts,  that  they  have  diverged  from  one 
another  in  proportion  as  the  languages  have  diverged.  All 
which  facts  show  us  that  in  these  races  the  thoughts,  re- 
strained within  narrow  established  courses,  have  not  the 
freedom  required  for  entering  into  new  combinations,  and 
so  initiating  new  modes  of  action  and  new  forms  of  product. 
Where  we  find  ingenuity  ascribed,  it  is  to  races  such  as 
the  Tahitians,  Javans,  etc.,  who  have  risen  some  stages  in 
civilization,  who  have  considerable  stocks  of  abstract  words 
and  ideas,  who  show  rational  surprise  and  curiosity,  and  who 
thus  evince  higher  intellectual  development. 

§  48.  Here  we  come  to  a  general  truth  allied  to  those 
with  which,  in  the  two  foregoing  chapters,  I  have  preluded 
the  summaries  of  results — the  truth  that  the  primitive  intel- 
lect develops  rapidly,  and  early  reaches  its  limit. 

In  the  Principles  of  Psychology,  §  165,  I  have  shown 
that  the  children  of  Australians,  of  Negroes  in  the  United 
States,  of  Negroes  on  the  Nile,  of  Andamanese,  of  New  Zea- 
landers,  of  Sandwich  Islanders,  are  quicker  than  European 
children  in  acquiring  simple  ideas,  but  presently  stop  short 
from  inability  to  grasp  the  complex  ideas  readily  grasped 
by  European  children,  when  they  arrive  at  them.  To  testi- 
monies before  quoted  I  may  add  the  remark  of  Mr.  Reade, 
that  in  Equatorial  Africa  the  children  are  "  absurdly  pre- 
cocious; "  the  statement  of  Captain  Burton,  that  "the 
negro  child,  like  the  East  Indian,  is  much  '  sharper '  than 
the  European  ...  at  the  age  of  puberty  this  precocity 
.  .  .  disappears;  "  and  the  description  of  the  Aleuts  of 
Alaska,  who  "  up  to  a  certain  point  are  readily  taught." 
This  i  early  cessation  of  development  implies  both  low  intel- 
lectual nature  and  a  great  impediment  to  intellectual  ad- 
vance; since  it  makes  the  larger  part  of  life  unmodifiable 
by  further  experiences.  On  reading  of  the  East  African, 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— INTELLECTUAL.  91 

that  lie  "  unites  the  incapacity  of  infancy  with  the  unpliancy 
of  age,"  and  of  the  Australians  that  "  after  twenty  their 
mental  vigour  seems  to  decline,  and  at  the  age  of  forty  seems 
nearly  extinct;  "  we  cannot  fail  to  see  how  greatly  this  arrest 
of  mental  evolution  hinders  improvement  where  improve- 
ment is  most  required. 

The  intellectual  traits  of  the  uncivilized,  thus  made 
specially  difficult  to  change,  may  now  be  recapitulated  while 
observing  that  they  are  traits  recurring  in  the  children  of 
the  civilized. 

Infancy  shows  us  an  absorption  in  sensations  and  percep- 
tions akin  to  that  which  characterizes  the  savage.  In  pull- 
ing to  pieces  its  toys,  in  making  mud-pies,  in  gazing  at  each 
new  thing  or  person,  the  child  exhibits  great  tendency  to 
observe  with  little  tendency  to  reflect.  There  is, 

again,  an  obvious  parallelism  in  the  mimetic  propensity. 
Children  are  ever  dramatizing  the  lives  of  adults;  and  sav- 
ages, along  with  their  other  mimicries,  similarly  dramatize 
the  actions  of  their  civilized  visitors.  Want  of 

power  to  discriminate  between  useless  and  useful  facts,  char- 
acterizes the  juvenile  mind,  as  it  does  the  mind  of  the  primi- 
tive man.  This  inability  to  select  nutritive  facts  necessarily 
accompanies  low  development;  since,  until  generalization 
has  made  some  progress,  and  the  habit  of  generalizing 
has  become  established,  there  cannot  be  reached  the  con- 
ception that  a  fact  has  a  remote  value  apart  from  any  im- 
mediate value  it  may  have.  Again,  we  see  in  the 
young  of  our  own  race  a  similar  inability  to  concentrate  the 
attention  on  anything  complex  or  abstract.  The  mind  of 
the  child,  as  well  as  that  of  the  savage,  soon  wanders  from 
sheer  exhaustion  when  generalities  and  involved  proposi- 
tions have  to  be  dealt  with.  From  feebleness  of 
the  higher  intellectual  faculties  comes,  in  both  cases,  an 
absence,  or  a  paucity,  of  ideas  grasped  by  those  faculties. 
The  child,  like  the  savage,  has  few  words  of  even  a  low  grade 
of  abstractedness,  and  none  of  a  higher  grade.  For  a  long 


92  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

time  it  is  familiar  with  cat,  dog,  horse,  cow,  but  has  no  con- 
ception of  animal  apart  from  kind;  and  years  elapse  before 
words  ending  in  ion  and  ity  occur  in  its  vocabulary.  Thus, 
in  both  cases,  the  very  implements  of  developed  thought 
are  wanting.  Unsupplied  as  its  mind  is  with  gen- 

eral truths,  and  with  the  conception  of  natural  order,  the 
civilized  child  when  quite  young,  like  the  savage  throughout 
life,  shows  but  little  rational  surprise  or  rational  curiosity. 
Something  startling  to  the  senses  makes  it  stare  vacantly, 
or  perhaps  cry;  but  let  it  see  a  chemical  experiment,  or 
draw  its  attention  to  the  behaviour  of  a  gyroscope,  and  its 
interest  is  like  that  shown  in  a  common-place  new  toy.  After 
a  time,  indeed,  when  the  higher  intellectual  powers  it  in- 
herits are  beginning  to  act,  and  when  its  stage  of  mental 
development  represents  that  of  such  semi-civilized  races  as 
the  Malayo-Polynesians,  rational  surprise  and  rational  curi- 
osity about  causes,  begin  to  show  themselves.  But  even  then 
its  extreme  credulity,  like  that  of  the  savage,  shows  us  the 
result  of  undeveloped  ideas  of  causation  and  law.  Any 
story,  however  monstrous,  is  believed ;  and  any  explanation, 
however  absurd,  is  accepted. 

And  here,  in  final  .elucidation  of  these  intellectual  traits 
of  the  primitive  man,  let  me  point  out  that,  like  the  emo- 
tional traits,  they  could  not  be  other  than  they  are  in  the 
absence  of  the  conditions  brought  about  by  social  evolution. 
In  the  Principles  of  Psychology,  §§  484 — 493,  it  was 
shown  in  various  ways  that  only  as  societies  grow,  become 
organized,  and  gain  stability,  do  there  arise  those  experi- 
ences by  assimilating  which  the  powers  of  thought  develop. 
It  needs  but  to  ask  what  would  happen  to  ourselves  were  the 
whole  mass  of  existing  knowledge  obliterated,  and  were  chil- 
dren with  nothing  beyond  their  nursery-language  left  to 
grow  up  without  guidance  or  instruction  from  adults,  to 
perceive  that  even  now  the  higher  intellectual  faculties 
would  be  almost  inoperative,  from  lack  of  the  materials  and 
aids  accumulated  by  past  civilization.  And  seeing  this,  we 


THE  PRIMITIVE  MAN— INTELLECTUAL.  93 

cannot  fail  to  see  that  development  of  the  higher  intellectual 
faculties  has  gone  on  pari  passu  with  social  advance,  alike 
as  cause  and  consequence ;  that  the  primitive  man  could  not 
evolve  these  higher  intellectual  faculties  in  the  absence  of 
a  fit  environment;  and  that  in  this,  as  in  other  respects,  his 
progress  was  retarded  by  the  absence  of  capacities  which 
only  progress  could  bring. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

PRIMITIVE    IDEAS. 

§  49.  YET  a  further  preparation  for  interpreting  social 
phenomena  is  needed.  It  is  not  enough  that  we  should  ac- 
quaint ourselves,  first  with  the  external  factors,  and  then 
with  those  internal  factors  treated  of  in  the  foregoing  three 
chapters.  The  behaviour  of  the  social  unit  as  exposed  to 
environing  conditions — inorganic,  organic,  and  super-or- 
ganic— depends  in  part  on  certain  additional  traits.  Beyond 
those  visible  specialities  of  organization  which  the  body  dis- 
plays, and  beyond  those  hidden  specialities  of  organization 
implied  by  the  mental  type,  there  are  those  specialities,  still 
less  traceable,  implied  by  the  acquired  beliefs.  As  accumu- 
lated ancestral  experiences,  moulding  the  nervous  struc- 
tures, produce  the  mental  powers;  so  personal  experiences, 
daily  elaborated  into  thoughts,  cause  small  modifications  of 
these  structures  and  powers.  A  complete  account  of  the 
original  social  unit  must  include  these  modifications — or 
rather,  must  include  the  correlative  ideas  implying  them. 
For,  manifestly,  the  ideas  he  forms  of  himself  of  other 
beings  and  of  the  surrounding  world>  greatly  affect  his  con- 
duct. 

A  description  of  these  final  modifications,  or  of  the  corre- 
sponding ideas,  is  difficult  to  give.  Obstacles  stand  in  the 
way  alike  of  inductive  interpretation  and  deductive  inter- 
pretation. We  must  first  glance  at  these. 

94 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  95 

§  50.  To  determine  what  conceptions  are  truly  primitive 
would  be  easy  if  we  had  accounts  of  truly  primitive  men. 
But  there  are  reasons  for  suspecting  that  men  of  the  lowest 
types  now  known,  forming  social  groups  of  the  simplest 
kinds,  do  not  exemplify  men  as  they  originally  were.  Prob- 
ably most  of  them  had  ancestors  in  higher  states;  and 
among  their  beliefs  remain  some  which  were  evolved  during 
those  higher  states.  While  the  current  degradation  theory 
is  untenable,  the  theory  of  progression,  in  its  ordinary  form, 
seems  to  me  untenable  also.  If,  on  the  one  hand,  the  notion 
that  savagery  is  caused  by  lapse  from  civilization,  is  irrecon- 
cilable with  the  evidence;  there  is,  on  the  other  hand,  in- 
adequate warrant  for  the  notion  that  the  lowest  savagery 
has  never  been  any  higher  than  it  is  now.  It  is  possible, 
and,  I  believe,  probable,  that  retrogression  has  been  as  fre- 
quent as  progression. 

Evolution  is  commonly  conceived  to  imply  in  everything 
an  intrinsic  tendency  to  become  something  higher.  This 
is  an  erroneous  conception  of  it.  In  all  cases  it  is  deter- 
mined by  the  co-operation  of  inner  and  outer  factors.  This 
co-operation  works  changes  until  there  is  reached  an  equi- 
librium between  the  environing  actions  and  the  actions 
which  the  aggregate  opposes  to  them — a  complete  equi- 
librium if  the  aggregate  is  without  life,  and  a  moving  equi- 
librium if  the  aggregate  is  living.  Thereupon  evolution, 
continuing  to  show  itself  only  in  the  progressing  integration 
that  ends  in  rigidity,  practically  ceases.  If,  in  the  case  of 
the  living  aggregates  forming  a  species,  the  environing 
actions  remain  constant,  the  species  remains  constant.  If 
the  environing  actions  change,  the  species  changes  until  it 
re-equilibriates  itself  with  them.  But  it  by  no  means  follows 
that  this  change  constitutes  a  step  in  evolution.  Usually 
neither  advance  nor  recession  results;  and  often,  certain 
previously-acquired  structures  being  rendered  superfluous, 
there  results  a  simpler  form.  Only  now  and  then  does  the 
environing  change  initiate  in  the  organism  a  new  complica- 


96  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

tion,  and  so  produce  a  somewhat  higher  structure.  Hence 
the  truth  that  while  for  immeasurable  periods  some  types 
have  not  sensibly  altered,  and  while  in  other  types  there  has 
been  further  evolution,  there  are  many  types  in  which 
retrogression  has  happened.  I  do  not  refer  merely  to  such 
facts  as  that  the  highest  orders  of  reptiles,  the  Pterosauria 
and  Dinosaur ia  which  once  had  many  genera  superior  in 
structure  and  gigantic  in  size,  have  become  extinct,  while 
lower  orders  of  reptiles  have  survived;  or  to  such  facts  as 
that  in  many  genera  of  mammals  there  once  existed  species 
larger  than  any  of  their  allies  existing  now;  but  I  refer 
more  especially  to  the  fact  that  of  parasitic  creatures  in- 
numerable kinds  are  degraded  modifications  of  higher  crea- 
tures. Of  all  existing  species  of  animals,  if  we  include  para- 
sites, the  greater  number  have  retrograded  from  structures 
to  which  their  ancestors  had  once  advanced.  Indeed,  pro- 
gression in  some  types  often  involves  retrogression  in  others. 
For  the  more  evolved  type,  conquering  by  the  aid  of  its  ac- 
quired superiority,  habitually  drives  competing  types  into 
inferior  habitats  and  less  profitable  modes  of  life:  usually 
implying  disuse  and  decay  of  their  higher  powers. 

As  with  organic  evolution,  so  with  super-organic  evolu- 
tion. Though,  taking  the  entire  assemblage  of  societies, 
evolution  may  be  held  inevitable  as  an  ultimate  effect  of 
the  co-operating  factors,  intrinsic  and  extrinsic,  acting  on 
them  all  through  indefinite  periods;  yet  it  cannot  be  held 
inevitable  in  each  particular  society,  or  even  probable.  A 
social  organism,  like  an  individual  organism,  undergoes 
modifications  until  it  comes  into  equilibrium  with  environ- 
ing conditions;  and  thereupon  continues  without  further 
change  of  structure.  When  the  conditions  are  changed 
meteorologically,  or  geologically,  or  by  alterations  in  the 
Flora  and  Fauna,  or  by  migration  consequent  on  pressure 
of  population,  or  by  flight  before  usurping  races,  some 
change  of  social  structure  results.  But  this  change  does 
not  necessarily  imply  advance.  Often  it  is  towards  neither 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  97 

a  higher  nor  a  lower  structure.  When  the  habitat  entails 
modes  of  life  that  are  inferior,  degradation  follows.  Only 
occasionally  does  the  new  combination  of  factors  produce  a 
change  constituting  a  step  in  social  evolution,  and  initiating 
a  social  type  which  spreads  and  supplants  inferior  social 
types.  And  with  these  super-organic  aggregates,  as  with 
the  organic  aggregates,  progression  in  some  causes  retro- 
gression in  others.  The  more-evolved  societies  drive  the  less- 
evolved  societies  into  unfavourable  habitats;  and  so  entail 
on  them  decrease  of  size,  or  decay  of  structure,  or  both. 

Direct  evidence  forces  this  conclusion  upon  us.  Lapse 
from  higher  civilization  to  lower  civilization,  made  familiar 
during  school-days,  is  further  exemplified  as  our  knowledge 
widens.  Egyptians,  Babylonians,  Assyrians,  Pho3nicians, 
Persians,  Jews,  Greeks,  Romans — it  needs  but  to  name 
these  to  be  reminded  that  many  large  and  highly-evolved 
societies  have  either  disappeared,  or  have  dwindled  to  bar- 
barous hordes,  or  have  been  long  passing  through  slow 
decay.  Ruins  show  us  that  in  Java  there  existed  in  the 
past  a  more-developed  society  than  exists  now ;  and  the  like 
is  shown  by  ruins  in  Cambodia.  Peru  and  Mexico  were 
once  the  seats  of  societies  large  and  elaborately  organized, 
which  have  been  disorganized  by  conquest;  and  where  the 
cities  of  Central  America  once  contained  great  populations 
carrying  on  various  industries  and  arts,  there  are  now  but 
scattered  tribes  of  savages.  Unquestionably,  causes  like 
those  which  produced  these  retrogressions,  have  been  at 
work  during  the  whole  period  of  human  existence.  Always 
there  have  been  cosmical  and  terrestrial  changes  going  on, 
which,  bettering  some  habitats,  have  made  others  worse; 
always  there  have  been  over-populations,  spreadings  of 
tribes,  conflicts  with  other  tribes,  and  escape  of  the  defeated 
into  localities  unfit  for  such  advanced  social  life  as  they 
had  reached ;  always,  where  evolution  has  been  uninterf  ered 
with  externally,  there  have  been  those  decays  and  dissolu- 
tions which  complete  the  cycles  of  social  changes.  And 


98  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

the  implication  is  that  remnants  of  inferior  races,  taking 
refuge  in  inclement,  barren,  or  otherwise  unfit  regions,  have 
retrograded. 

Probably,  then,  most  of  the  tribes  known  as  lowest,  ex- 
hibit some  social  phenomena  which  are  due,  not  to  causes 
now  operating,  but  to  causes  that  operated  during  past 
social  states  higher  than  the  present.  This  a  priori  conclu- 
sion harmonizes  with  the  facts;  and,  indeed,  is  suggested 
by  facts  otherwise  inexplicable.  Take,  for  example,  some 
furnished  by  the  Australians.  Divided  into  tribes  wander- 
ing over  a  wide  area,  these  savages  have,  notwithstanding 
their  antagonisms,  a  complex  system  of  relationships,  and 
consequent  interdicts  on  marriage,  which  could  not  possibly 
have  been  framed  by  any  agreement  among  them  as  they 
now  exist ;  but  which  are  comprehensible  as  having  survived 
from  a  state  in  which  there  was  closer  union,  and  subordina- 
tion to  some  common  rule.  Such,  also,  is  the  implication  of 
the  circumcision,  and  the  knocking-out  of  teeth,  which  we 
find  among  them.  For  when  we  come  hereafter  to  deal  with 
bodily  mutilations,  we  shall  see  that  they  all  imply  a  sub- 
ordination, political,  or  ecclesiastical,  or  both,  such  as  these 
races  do -not  now  exhibit. 

Hence,  then,  a  difficulty  in  ascertaining  inductively  what 
are  primitive  ideas.  Of  the  ideas  current  among  men  now 
forming  the  rudest  societies,  there  are  most  likely  some 
which  have  descended  by  tradition  from  higher  states.  These 
have  to  be  discriminated  from  truly  primitive  ideas;  so  that 
simple  induction  does  not  suffice. 

§  51.  To  the  deductive  method  there  are  obstacles  of 
another  kind  but  equally  great.  Comprehension  of  the 
thoughts  generated  in  the  primitive  man  by  converse  with 
the  surrounding  world,  can  be  had  only  by  looking  at  the 
surrounding  world  from  his  stand-point.  The  accumulated 
knowledge  acquired  during  education,  must  be  suppressed; 
and  we  must  divest  ourselves  of  conceptions  which,  partly 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  99 

by  inheritance  and  partly  by  individual  culture,  have  been 
firmly  established.  Xone  can  do  this  completely,  and  few 
can  do  it  even  partially. 

It  needs  but  to  observe  what  unfit  methods  are  used  by 
teachers,  to  be  convinced  that  even  among  the  disciplined 
the  power  to  frame  thoughts  which  are  widely  unlike  their 
own,  is  very  small.  When  we  see  the  juvenile  mind  plied 
with  generalities  before  it  has  any  of  the  concrete  facts  to 
which  they  refer — when  we  see  mathematics  introduced 
under  the  purely  rational  form,  instead  of  under  that  empiri- 
cal form  with  which  it  should  be  commenced  by  the  child,  as 
it  was  commenced  by  the  race — when  we  see  a  subject  so 
abstract  as  grammar  put  among  the  first  instead  of  among 
the  last,  and  see  it  taught  analytically  instead  of  syntheti- 
cally; we  have  ample  evidence  of  the  prevailing  inability  to 
conceive  the  ideas  of  undeveloped  minds.  And  if,  though 
lately  children  themselves,  men  find  it  hard  to  re-think  the 
thoughts  of  the  child;  still  harder  must  they  find  it  to  re- 
think the  thoughts  of  the  savage.  To  keep  out  automorphic 
interpretations  is  beyond  our  power.  To  look  at  things  with 
the  eyes  of  absolute  ignorance,  and  observe  how  their  attri- 
butes and  actions  originally  grouped  themselves  in  the 
mind,  implies  a  self -suppression  that  is  impracticable. 

Nevertheless,  we  must  here  do  our  best  to  conceive  the 
surrounding  world  as  it  appeared  to  the  primitive  man ;  that 
we  may  be  able  the  better  to  interpret  deductively  the  evi- 
dence available  for  induction.  And  though  we  are  incapable 
of  reaching  the  conception  by  a  direct  process,  we  may  ap- 
proach to  it  by  an  indirect  process.  The  doctrine  of  evolution 
will  help  us  to  delineate  primitive  ideas  in  some  of  their  lead- 
ing traits.  Having  inferred,  a  priori,  the  characters  of  those 
ideas,  we  shall  be  as  far  as  possible  prepared  to  realize  them  in 
imagination,  and  then  to  discern  them  as  actually  existing. 

§  52.  Our  postulate  must  be  that  primitive  ideas  are 
natural,  and,  under  the  conditions  in  which  they  occur, 


100  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

rational.  In  early  life  we  have  been  taught  that  human 
nature  is  everywhere  the  same.  Led  thus  to  contemplate 
the  beliefs  of  savages  as  beliefs  entertained  by  minds  like 
our  own,  we  marvel  at  their  strangeness,  and  ascribe  per- 
versity to  those  who  hold  them.  This  error  we  must  replace 
by  the  truth  that  the  laws  of  thought  are  everywhere  the 
same;  and  that,  given  the  data  as  known  to  him,  the  primi- 
tive man's  inference  is  the  reasonable  inference. 

From  its  lowest  to  its  highest  grades  intelligence  proceeds 
by  the  classing  of  objects  and  the  classing  of  relations; 
which  are,  in  fact,  different  aspects  of  the  same  process. 
(Principles  of  Psychology,  §§  309 — 316,  §  381.)  On  the 
one  hand,  perception  of  an  object  implies  that  its  attributes 
are  severally  classed  with  like  before-known  attributes,  and 
the  relations  in  which  they  stand  to  one  another  with  like 
before-known  relations;  while  the  object  itself,  in  being 
known,  is  classed  with  its  like  as  such  or  such.  On  the  other 
hand,  every  step  in  reasoning  implies  that  the  object  of 
which  anything  is  predicated,  is  classed  with  objects  pre- 
viously known  of  like  kind;  implies  that  the  attribute, 
power,  or  act,  predicated,  is  classed  as  like  other  previously- 
known  attributes,  powers,  or  acts ;  and  implies  that  the  rela- 
tion between  the  object  and  this  predicated  attribute,  power, 
or  act,  is  classed  with  previously-known  like  relations.  This 
assimilation  of  states  of  consciousness  of  all  orders  with  their 
likes  in  past  experience,  which  is  the  universal  intellectual 
process,  animal  and  human,  leads  to  results  that  are  correct 
in  proportion  to  the  power  of  appreciating  likenesses  and 
unlikenesses.  Where  simple  terms  stand  in  relations  that 
are  simple,  direct,  and  close,  the  classing  can  be  rightly  car- 
ried on  by  simple  minds ;  but  in  proportion  as  the  terms  are 
complex  and  the  relations  between  them  involved,  indirect, 
remote,  the  classing  can  be  rightly  carried  on  only  by  minds 
developed  to  a  corresponding  complexity.  In  the  absence 
of  this  corresponding  complexity,  the  terms  of  relations  are 
grouped  with  those  which  they  conspicuously  resemble,  and 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  101 

the  relations  themselves  are  grouped  in  like  manner.  But 
this  leads  to  error;  since  the  most  obvious  traits  are  not 
always  those  by  which  things  are  really  allied  to  one  an- 
other, and  the  most  obvious  characters  of  relations  are  not 
always  their  essential  characters. 

Let  us  observe  a  few  of  the  common  mistakes  thus 
caused.  In  old  works  on  natural  history,  whales  are  called 
fishes :  living  in  the  water,  and  fish-like  in  shape,  what  else 
should  they  be?  2sine  out  of  ten  cabin-passengers,  and 
ninety-nine  out  of  a  hundred  of  those  in  the  steerage,  would 
be  amazed  were  you  to  tell  them  that  the  porpoises  playing 
about  the  steamer's  bow,  are  nearer  akin  to  dogs  than  to 
cod.  Take,  again,  the  name  shell-fish,  as  popularly  used. 
In  the  first  place,  there  is  supposed  to  be  some  alliance  be- 
tween shell-fish  and  fish-proper,  because  both  are  aquatic. 
In  the  second  place,  the  fishmonger  includes  under  shell-fish 
both  oysters  and  crabs:  these,  though  far  more  remote  in 
type  than  an  eel  is  from  a  man,  having  in  common  the 
character  that  their  softer  parts  are  inclosed  in  hard 
cases.  After  reminding  ourselves  of  these  mis- 

takes to  which  classing  by  obvious  characters  leads  our  own 
people,  we  shall  see  how  natural  are  the  mistakes  into  which 
uncivilized  men  are  similarly  led.  Hayes  could  not  make 
the  Esquimaux  understand  that  woollen  cloth  was  not  a  skin. 
"  Glass  "  they  "  took  for  ice,  and  biscuit  for  the  dried  flesh 
of  the  musk-ox."  Having  so  small  an  acquaintance  with 
things,  these  were  the  most  rational  groupings  they  could 
make-^-quite  as  rational  as  those  above  instanced.  If  his 
erroneous  classing  led  the  Esquimaux  to  the  erroneous  infer- 
ence that  glass  would  melt  in  his  mouth,  this  was  not  more 
erroneous  than  that  of  the  ship-passenger  who,  instead  of 
what  he  looked  for,  would  find  in  the  porpoise  hot  blood, 
and  lungs  to  breathe  air  with.  So,  too,  remembering  that 
they  had  no  experiences  of  metals,  we  shall  see  nothing  irra- 
tional in  the  question  put  to  Jackson  by  the  Fijians — "  how 
we  could  get  axes  hard  enough  in  a  natural  country,  to  cut 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  BARBARA  COLLEGE  LIBRA 


102  THE.  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

down  the  trees  which  the  barrels  of  muskets  were  made  of." 
For  were  not  tubular  canes  the  only  objects  to  which  musket 
barrels  bore  any  resemblance?  When,  again,  certain  Hill- 
people  with  whom  Dr.  Hooker  came  in  contact,  saw  thrown 
on  the  ground  a  spring-box  measuring-tape,  that  had  just 
been  extended  for  use,  and  when,  seeing  the  coils  of  tape 
disappearing  into  the  box  they  ran  away  shrieking,  it  is 
manifest  that  the  tape  was  considered  in  virtue  of  its  spon- 
taneous movement  as  something  alive,  and  in  virtue  of  its 
shape  and  behaviour  as  some  kind  of  snake.  Without  knowl- 
edge of  mechanical  contrivances,  and  seeing  nothing  of  the 
internal  spring,  this  belief  was  perfectly  natural — any  other 
would  have  been  irrational.  Turn,  now,  from  the 

classing  of  objects  to  the  classing  of  relations.  We  may 
again  aid  ourselves  by  analyzing  some  errors  current  in  our 
own  society.  It  is  a  common  recommendation  of  some 
remedy  for  a  burn,  that  it  "  draws  the  fire  out:  "  the  im- 
plication being  that  between  the  thing  applied  and  the  heat 
supposed  to  be  lodged  in  the  tissues,  there  is  a  connection 
like  that  between  some  object  and  another  which  it  pulls. 
Again,  after  a  long  frost,  when  air  highly  charged  with 
water  comes  in  contact  with  a  cold  smooth  surface,  such  as 
that  of  a  painted  wall,  the  water  condensed  on  it  collects  in 
drops  and  trickles  down;  whereupon  may  be  heard  the  re- 
mark that  "  the  wall  sweats."  Because  the  water,  not  visi- 
bly brought  from,  elsewhere,  makes  its  appearance  on  the 
wall  as  perspiration  does  on  the  skin,  it  is  assumed  to  come 
out  of  the  wall  as  perspiration  does  out  of  the  skin.  Here, 
as  before,  we  see  a  relation  classed  with  another  which  it 
superficially  resembles,  but  from  which  it  is  entirely  alien. 
If,  now,  we  consider  what  must  happen  where  ignorance  is 
still  greater,  we  shall  no  longer  be  astonished  at  primitive 
interpretations.  The  Orinoco  Indians  think  that  dew  is 
"  the  spittle  of  the  stars."  Observe  the  genesis  of  this  be- 
lief. Dew  is  a  clear  liquid  to  which  saliva  has  some  resem- 
blance. It  is  a  liquid  which,  lying  on  leaves,  etc.,  seems 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  10$ 

to  have  descended  from  above,  as  saliva  descends  from  the 
mouth  of  one  who  spits.  Having  descended  during  a  cloud- 
less night,  it  must  have  come  from  the  only  things  then 
visible  above;  namely,  the  stars.  Thus  the  product  itself, 
dew,  and  the  relation  between  it  and  its  supposed  source, 
are  respectively  assimilated  with  those  like  them  in  obvious 
characters;  and  we  need  but  recall  our  own  common  expres- 
sion "  it  spits  with  rain,"  to  see  how  natural  is  the  interpre- 
tation. 

Another  trait  of  savage  conceptions  is  explicable  in  a 
kindred  way.  Only  as  knowledge  advances  and  observation 
becomes  critical,  does  there  grow  up  the  idea  that  the  power 
of  any  agent  to  produce  its  peculiar  effect,  may  depend  on 
some  one  property  to  the  exclusion  of  the  rest,  or  on  some 
one  part  to  the  exclusion  of  the  rest,  or  not  on  one  or  more  of 
the  properties  or  parts  but  on  the  arrangement  of  them. 
What  character  it  is  in  a  complex  whole  which  determines 
its  efficiency,  can  be  known  only  after  analysis  has  advanced 
somewhat ;  and  until  then,  the  efficiency  is  necessarily  con- 
ceived as  belonging  to  the  whole  indiscriminately.  Further, 
this  unanalyzed  whole  is  conceived  as  standing  towards  some 
unanalyzed  effect,  in  some  relation  that  is  unanalyzed.  This 
trait  of  primitive  thought  is  so  pregnant  of  results,  that  we 
must  consider  it  more  closely.  Let  us  symbolize 

the  several  attributes  of  an  object,  say  a  sea-shell,  by  A,  B, 
C,  D,  E,  and  the  relations  among  them  by  w,  x,  y,  2.  The 
ability  of  this  object  to  concentrate  sound  on  the  ear,  is  due 
in  part  to  the  smoothness  of  its  internal  surface  (which  we 
will  express  by  C),  and  in  part  to  those  relations  among  the 
portions  of  this  surface  constituting  its  shape  (which  we  will 
symbolize  by  y).  Xbw,  that  the  ability  of  the  shell  to  pro- 
duce a  hissing  murmur  when  held  to  the  ear,  may  be  under- 
stood as  thus  resulting,  it  is  needful  that  C  and  y  should  be 
separated  in  thought  from  the  rest.  Until  this  can  be  done, 
the  sound-multiplying  power  of  the  shell  cannot  be  known 
not  to  depend  on  its  colour,  or  hardness,  or  roughness  (sup- 


104  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

posing  these  to  be  separately  thinkable  as  attributes).  Evi- 
dently, before  attributes  are  distinguished,  this  power  of  the 
shell  can  be  thought  of  only  as  belonging  to  it  generally — 
residing  in  it  as  a  whole.  But,  as  we  have  seen  (§  40),  at- 
tributes or  properties,  as  we  understand  them,  are  not  recog- 
nizable by  the  savage — are  abstractions  which  neither  his 
faculties  can  grasp  nor  his  language  express.  Thus,  of  ne- 
cessity, he  associates  this  strange  murmuring  with  the  shell 
bodily — regards  it  as  related  to  the  shell  as  weight  is  related 
to  a  stone.  Hence  certain  beliefs,  everywhere 

conspicuous  among  the  uncivilized.  A  special  potency 
which  some  object  or  part  of  an  object  displays,  belongs  to 
it  in  such  wise  that  it  may  be  acquired  by  consuming  or  pos- 
sessing this  object  or  part.  The  powers  of  a  conquered  an- 
tagonist are  supposed  to  be  gained  by  devouring  him.  The 
Dakotah  eats  the  heart  of  a  slain  foe  to  increase  his  own 
courage;  the  New  Zealander  swallows  his  dead  enemy's 
eyes  that  he  may  see  the  further;  the  Abipone  consumes 
tiger's  flesh,  thinking  so  to  gain  the  tiger's  strength  and 
ferocity:  cases  which  recall  the  legend  about  Zeus  devour- 
ing Metis  that  he  might  become  possessed  of  her  wisdom. 
The  like  trait  is  seen  in  such  beliefs  as  that  of  the  Guaranis, 
whose  "  pregnant  women  abstained  from  eating  the  flesh  of 
the  Anta,  lest  the  child  should  have  a  large  nose ;  and  from 
small  birds,  lest  it  should  prove  diminutive;  "  or  again,  in 
such  beliefs  as  that  which  led  the  Caribs  to  sprinkle  a  male 
infant  with  his  father's  blood  to  give  him  his  father's  cour- 
age; or  again,  in  such  beliefs  as  that  of  the  Bulloms,  who 
hold  that  possessing  part  of  a  successful  person's  body,  gives 
them  "  a  portion  of  his  good  fortune."  Clearly  the  implied 
mode  of  thought,  shown  even  in  the  medical  prescriptions 
of  past  ages,  and  continuing  down  to  recent  days  in  the  no- 
tion that  character  is  absorbed  with  mother's  milk,  is  a  mode 
of  thought  necessarily  persisting  until  analysis  has  disclosed 
the  complexities  of  causal  relations. 

While  physical  conceptions  are  few  and  vague,  any  ante- 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  105 

cedent  serves  to  account  for  any  consequent.  Ask  a  quarry- 
man  what  he  thinks  of  the  fossils  his  pick-axe  is  exposing, 
and  he  will  tell  you  they  are  "  sports  of  nature :  "  the  tend- 
ency of  his  thought  to  pass  from  the  existence  of  the  fossils 
as  an  effect,  to  some  agent  as  cause,  is  satisfied,  and  his  curi- 
osity ceases.  The  plumber,  cross-examined  about  the  work- 
ing of  the  pump  he  is  repairing,  says  that  the  water  rises 
in  it  by  suction.  Having  classed  the  process  with  one  which 
he  can  perform  by  the  muscular  actions  of  his  mouth  ap- 
plied to  a  tube,  he  thinks  he  understands  it — never  asks 
what  force  makes  the  water  rise  towards  his  mouth  when  he 
performs  these  muscular  actions.  Similarly  with  an  ex- 
planation of  some  unfamiliar  fact  which  you  may  often  hear 
in  cultivated  society — "  it  is  caused  by  electricity."  The 
mental  tension  is  sufficiently  relieved  when,  to  the  observed 
result,  there  is  joined  in  thought  this  something  with  a  name ; 
though  there  is  no  notion  what  the  something  really  is,  nor 
the  remotest  idea  how  the  result  can  be  wrought  by  it.  Hav- 
ing such  illustrations  furnished  by  those  around  us,  we  shall 
have  no  difficulty  in  seeing  how  the  savage,  with  fewer  ex- 
periences more  vaguely  grouped,  adopts,  as  quite  adequate, 
the  first  explanation  which  familiar  associations  suggest.  If 
Siberian  tribes,  finding  mammoths  imbedded  in  ice  and  the 
bones  of  mammoths  in  the  ground,  ascribe  earthquakes  to  the 
burrowing  of  these  huge  beasts;  or  if  savages  living  near 
volcanoes,  think  of  them  as  fires  lighted  by  some  of  their 
ancestors  to  cook  by ;  they  do  but  illustrate  in  a  more  marked 
way,  the  common  readiness  to  fill  up  the  missing  term  of  a 
causal  relation  by  the  first  agency  which  occurs  to  the 
mind.  Further,  it  is  observable  that  proximate 

interpretations  suffice — there  is  no  tendency  to  ask  for  any- 
thing beyond  them.  The  Africans  who  denied  the  alleged 
obligations  to  God,  by  saying  that  "  the  earth,  and  not  God, 
gave  them  gold,  which  was  dug  out  of  its  bowels ;  that  the 
earth  yielded  them  maize  and  rice;  .  .  .  that  for  fruits 
they  were  obliged  to  the  Portuguese,  who  had  planted  the 


106  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

trees;  "  and  so  on;  show  us  that  a  relation  between  the  last 
consequent  and  its  immediate  antecedent  having  been  estab- 
lished, nothing  further  happens.  There  is  not  enough  men- 
tal excursiveness  to  raise  a  question  respecting  any  remoter 
antecedent. 

One  other  trait,  consequent  on  the  foregoing  traits, 
should  be  added.  There  result  conceptions  that  are  incon- 
sistent and  confused.  Certain  fundamental  ideas  as  found 
among  the  Iroquois,  are  described  by  Morgan  as  "  vague 
and  diversified;  "  as  found  among  the  Creeks,  are  charac- 
terized by  Schoolcraft  as  "  confused  and  irregular;  "  as 
found  among  the  Karens,  are  said  by  Mason  to  be  "  con- 
fused, indefinite,  and  contradictory."  Everywhere  occur 
gross  inconsistencies  which  arise  from  leaving  propositions 
uncompared;  as  when,  in  almost  the  same  breath,  a  Mala- 
gasy "  will  express  his  belief  that  when  he  dies  he  ceases 
altogether  to  exist,  .  .  .  and  yet  confess  the  fact  that  he 
is  in  the  habit  of  praying  to  his  ancestors  " — a  special  in- 
consistency occurring  among  many  peoples.  How  illogi- 
calities so  extreme  are  possible,  we  shall  the  more  easily  see 
on  recalling  certain  of  our  own  illogicalities.  Instance  the 
popular  notion  that  killing  a  mad  dog  preserves  from  harm 
a  person  just  bitten  by  it ;  or  instance  that  familiar  absurd- 
ity fallen  into  by  believers  in  ghosts,  who,  admitting  that 
ghosts  are  seen  clothed,  admit,  by  implication,  that  coats 
have  ghosts — an  implication  they  had  not  perceived.  Among 
men  of  low  type,  then,  far  more  ignorant  and  with  less  ca- 
pacity for  thought,  we  must  expect  to  find  a  chaos  of  notions, 
and  a  ready  acceptance  of  doctrines  which  are  ludicrously 
incongruous. 

And  now  we  have  prepared  ourselves,  so  far  as  may  be, 
for  understanding  primitive  ideas.  We  have  seen  that  a 
true  interpretation  of  these  must  be  one  which  recognizes 
their  naturalness  under  the  conditions.  The  mind  of  the 
savage,  like  the  mind  of  the  civilized,  proceeds  by  classing 
objects  and  relations  with  their  likes  in  past  experience.  In 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  107 

the  absence  of  adequate  mental  power,  there  result  simple 
and  vague  classings  of  objects  by  conspicuous  likenesses, 
and  of  actions  by  conspicuous  likenesses;  and  hence  come 
crude  notions,  too  simple  and  too  few  in  their  kinds,  to 
represent  the  facts.  Further,  these  crude  notions  are  in- 
evitably inconsistent  to  an  extreme  degree.  Let  us  now 
glance  at  the  sets  of  ideas  thus  formed  and  thus  charcter- 
ized. 

§  53.  In  the  sky,  clear  a  few  moments  ago,  the  savage 
sees  a  fragment  of  cloud  which  grows  while  he  gazes.-  At 
another  time,  watching  one  of  these  moving  masses,  he 
observes  shreds  of  it  drift  away  and  vanish;  and  presently 
the  whole  disappears.  What  thought  results  in  him?  He 
knows  nothing  about  precipitation  of  vapour  and  dissolution 
of  vapour;  nor  has  there  been  any  one  to  stop  his  inquiry 
by  the  reply — "  It  is  only  a  cloud."  Something  he  could 
not  before  see  has  become  visible;  and  something  just  now 
visible  has  vanished.  The  whence,  and  the  where,  and  the 
why,  he  cannot  tell;  but  there  is  the  fact. 

In  this  same  space  above  him  occur  other  changes.  As 
day  declines  bright  points  here  and  there  show  themselves, 
becoming  clearer  and  more  numerous  as  darkness  increases ; 
and  then  at  dawn  they  fade  gradually,  until  not  one  is  left. 
Differing  from  clouds  utterly  in  size,  form,  colour,  etc.; 
differing  also  as  continually  re-appearing  in  something  like 
the  same  places,  in  the  same  relative  positions,  and  in  mov- 
ing but  very  slowly  always  in  the  same  way;  they  are  yet 
like  them  in  becoming  now  visible  and  now  invisible.  That 
feeble  lights  may  be  wholly  obscured  by  a  bright  light,  and 
that  the  stars  are  shining  during  the  day  though  he  does  not 
see  them,  are  facts  beyond  the  imagination  of  the  savage. 
The  truth,  as  he  perceives  it,  is  that  these  existences  now 
show  themselves  and  now  are  hidden. 

Utterly  unlike  clouds  and  stars  in  their  aspects  as  Sun 
and  Moon  are,  they  show,  in  common  with  them,  this  same 


108  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

alternation  of  visibility  with  invisibility.  The  Sun  rises  on 
the  other  side  of  the  mountains;  from  time  to  time  covered 
by  a  cloud  presently  comes  out  again;  and  at  length  hides 
below  the  level  of  the  sea.  The  Moon,  besides  doing  the 
like,  first  increases  slowly  night  after  night,  and  then  wanes : 
by  and  by  re-appearing  as  a  thin  bright  streak,  with  the  rest 
of  her  disc  so  faintly  perceptible  as  to  seem  only  half  existing. 

Added  to  these  commonest  and  most  regular  occultations 
and  manifestations,  are  various  others,  even  more  striking — 
comets,  meteors,  and  the  aurora  with  its  arch  and  pulsating 
streams;  flashes  of  lightning,  rainbows,  halos.  Differing 
from  the  rest  and  from  one  another  as  these  do,  they  simi- 
larly appear  and  disappear.  So  that  by  a  being  absolutely 
ignorant  but  able  to  remember,  and  to  group  the  things  he 
remembers,  the  heavens  must  be  regarded  as  a  scene  of  ar- 
rivals and  departures  of  many  kinds  of  existences;  some 
gradual,  some  sudden,  but  alike  in  this,  that  it  is  impossible 
to  say  whence  the  existences  come  or  whither  they  go. 

JSTot  the  sky  only,  but  also  the  Earth's  surface,  supplies 
various  instances  of  these  disappearances  of  things  which 
have  unaccountably  appeared.  Now  the  savage  sees  little 
pools  of  water  formed  by  the  rain  drops  coming  from  a  source 
he  cannot  reach;  and  now,  in  a  few  hours,  the  gathered 
liquid  has  made  itself  invisible.  Here,  again,  is  a  fog — per- 
haps lying  isolated  in  a  hollow,  perhaps  enwrapping  every- 
thing— which  came  a  while  since,  and  presently  goes  with- 
out leaving  a  trace  of  its  whereabouts.  Afar  off  is  perceived 
water — obviously  a  great  lake;  but  on  approaching  it  the 
seeming  lake  recedes,  and  cannot  be  found.  In  the  desert, 
what  we  know  as  sand-whirlwinds,  and  on  the  sea  what  we 
know  as  water-spouts,  are  to  the  primitive  man  moving 
things  which  come  out  of  nothing  and  then  vanish  into  noth- 
ing. Looking  over  the  ocean  he  recognizes  an  island  known 
to  be  a  long  way  off,  and  commonly  invisible,  but  which  has 
now  risen  from  the  water;  and  to-morrow,  he  observes,  un- 
supported in  space,  an  inverted  figure  of  a  boat,  perhaps 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  109 

by  itself,  or  perhaps  joined  to  an  erect  figure  above.  In  one 
place  he  sometimes  perceives  land-objects  on  the  surface  of 
the  sea,  or  in  the  air  over  it — a  fata  morgana',  and  in 
another,  opposite  to  him  on  the  mist,  there  occasionally 
comes  into  view  a  gigantic  duplicate  of  himself — "  a  Brock- 
en  spectre."  These  occurrences,  some  familiar  and  some  un- 
familiar, repeat  the  same  experience — show  transitions 
between  the  visible  and  the  invisible. 

Once  more,  let  us  ask  what  must  be  the  original  con- 
ception of  wind.  Nothing  in  early  experiences  yields  the 
idea  of  air,  as  we  are  now  familiar  with  it;  and,  indeed, 
most  can  recall  the  difficulty  they  once  had  in  thinking  of 
the  surrounding  medium  as  a  material  substance.  The 
primitive  man  cannot  regard  it  as  a  something  which  acts 
as  do  the  things  he  sees  and  handles.  Into  this  seemingly- 
empty  space  on  all  sides,  there  from  time  to  time  comes  an 
invisible  agent  which  bends  the  trees,  drives  along  the  leaves, 
disturbs  the  water ;  and  which  he  feels  moving  his  hair,  fan- 
ning his  cheek,  and  now  and  then  pushing  his  body  with 
a  force  he  has  some  difficulty  in  overcoming.  What  may 
be  the  nature  of  this  agent  there  is  nothing  to  tell  him; 
but  one  thing  is  irresistibly  thrust  on  his  consciousness — • 
that  sounds  are  made,  things  about  him  are  moved,  and  he 
himself  is  buffeted,  by  an  existence  he  can  neither  grasp 
nor  see. 

"What  primitive  ideas  arise  out  of  these  experiences  de- 
rived from  the  inorganic  world  ?  In  the  absence  of  hypothe- 
sis (which  is  foreign  to  thought  in  its  earliest  stages),  what 
mental  association  do  these  occurrences,  some  at  long  in- 
tervals, some  daily,  some  hourly,  some  from  minute  to  min- 
ute, tend  to  establish?  They  present,  under  many  forms, 
the  relation  between  a  perceptible  and  an  imperceptible 
mode  of  existence.  In  what  way  does  the  savage  think  of 
this  relation  ?  He  cannot  think  of  it  in  terms  of  dissipation 
into  vapour  and  condensation  from  it,  nor  in  terms  of  optical 
relations  producing  illusions,  nor  in  any  terms  of  physical 


HO  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

science.  How,  then,  does  he  formulate  it?  A  clue  to  the 
answer  will  be  furnished  by  recalling  certain  remarks  of 
young  children.  When  an  image  from  the  magic  lantern 
thrown  on  a  screen,  suddenly  disappears  on  withdrawal  of 
the  slide,  or  when  the  reflection  from  a  looking-glass,  cast 
for  a  child's  amusement  on  the  wall  or  ceiling,  is  made  to 
vanish  by  changing  the  attitude  of  the  glass,  the  child  asks 
— "  Where  is  it  gone  to?  "  The  notion  arising  in  its  mind 
is,  not  that  this  something  no  longer  seen  has  become  non- 
existent, but  that  it  has  become  non-apparent;  and  it  is  led 
to  think  this  by  daily  observing  persons  disappear  behind 
adjacent  objects,  by  watching  while  things  are  put  out  of 
sight,  and  by  now  and  again  finding  a  toy  that  had  been 
hidden  or  lost.  Similarly,  the  primitive  idea  is,  that  these 
various  entities  now  manifest  themselves  and  now  conceal 
themselves.  As  the  animal  which  he  has  wounded  hides 
itself  in  the  brushwood,  and,  if  it  cannot  be  found,  is  supposed 
by  the  savage  to  have  escaped  in  some  incomprehensible 
way,  but  to  be  still  existing;  so,  in  the  absence  of  accumu- 
lated and  organized  knowledge,  the  implication  of  all  these 
experiences  is,  that  many  of  the  things  above  and  around 
pass  often  from  visibility  to  invisibility,  and  conversely. 
Bearing  in  mind  how  the  actions  of  wind  prove  that  there 
is  an  invisible  form  of  existence  which  possesses  power,  we 
shall  see  this  belief  to  be  plausible. 

It  remains  only  to  point  out  that  along  with  this  con- 
ception of  a  visible  condition  and  an  invisible  condition, 
which  each  of  these  many  things  has,  there  comes  the  con- 
ception of  duality.  Each  of  them  is  in  a  sense  double;  since 
it  has  these  two  complementary  modes  of  being. 

§  54.  Significant  facts  of  another  order  may  next  be 
noted — facts  impressing  the  primitive  man  with  the  belief 
that  things  are  transmutable  from  one  kind  of  substance  into 
another.  I  refer  to  the  facts  forced  on  his  attention  by  im- 
bedded remains  of  animals  and  plants. 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  1U 

While  gathering  food  on  the  sea-shore,  he  finds,  protrud- 
ing from  a  rock,  a  shell,  which,  if  not  of  the  same  shape  as 
the  shells  he  picks  up,  is  so  similar  that  he  naturally  classes 
it  with  them.  But  instead  of  being  loose,  it  is  part  of  a  solid 
block;  and  on  breaking  it  off,  he  finds  its  inside  as  hard  as 
its  matrix.  Here,  then,  are  two  kindred  forms,  one  of  which 
consists  of  shell  and  flesh,  and  the  other  of  shell  and  stone. 
Near  at  hand,  in  the  mass  of  clay  debris  detached  from  an 
adjacent  cliff,  he  picks  up  a  fossil  ammonite.  Perhaps,  like 
the  Gryphwa,  just  examined,  it  has  a  shelly  coating  with  a 
stony  inside.  Perhaps,  as  happens  with  some  liassic  am- 
monites of  which  the  shell  has  been  dissolved  away,  leaving 
the  masses  of  indurated  clay  that  filled  its  chambers  locked 
loosely  together,  it  suggests  a  series  of  articulated  vertebras 
coiled  up ;  or,  as  with  other  liassic  ammonites  of  which  the 
shell  has  been  replaced  by  iron  pyrites,  it  has  a  glistening 
appearance  like  that  of  a  snake's  skin.  As  such  fossils  are 
sometimes  called  "  snake-stones,"  and  are,  in  Ireland,  sup- 
posed to  be  the  serpents  St.  Patrick  banished,  we  cannot 
wonder  if  the  uncritical  savage,  classing  this  object  with 
those  it  most  resembles,  thinks  it  a  transmuted  snake — once 
flesh  and  now  stone.  In  another  place,  where  a  gully  has 
been  cut  through  sandstone  by  a  stream,  he  observes  on  the 
surface  of  a  slab  the  outline  of  a  fish,  and,  looking  closely, 
sees  scales  and  the  traces  of  fins;  and  elsewhere,  similarly 
imbedded  in  rock,  he  finds  bones  not  unlike  those  of  the 
animals  he  kills  for  food :  some  of  them,  indeed,  not  unlike 
those  of  men. 

Still  more  suggestive  are  the  fossil  plants  occasionally 
discovered.  I  do  not  refer  so  much  to  the  prints  of  leaves 
in  shale,  and  the  stony  stems  found  in  strata  accompanying 
coal.  I  refer,  more  especially,  to  the  silicified  trees  here  and 
there  met  with.  Retaining,  not  their  general  forms  only  but 
their  minute  structures,  so  that  the  annual  growths  are 
marked  by  rings  of  colour  such  as  mark  them  in  living  stems, 
these  yield  the  savage  clear  evidence  of  transmutation.  With 


112  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

all  our  knowledge  it  remains  difficult  to  understand  how 
silica  can  so  replace  the  components  of  the  wood  as  to  pre- 
serve the  appearance  thus  perfectly;  and  for  the  primitive 
man,  knowing  nothing  of  molecular  action  and  unable  to 
conceive  a  process  of  substitution,  there  is  no  possible  thought 
but  that  the  wood  is  changed  into  stone.* 

Thus,  if  we  ignore  those  conceptions  of  physical  causa- 
tion  which  have  arisen  only  as  experiences  have  been  slowly 
organized  during  civilization,  we  shall  see  that  in  their  ab- 
sence there  would  be  nothing  to  prevent  us  from  putting 
on  these  facts  the  interpretations  which  the  primitive  man 
puts  on  them.  Looking  at  the  evidence  through  his  eyes, 
we  find  his  belief  that  things  change  from  one  kind  of  sub- 
stance to  another,  to  be  the  inevitable  belief. 

And  here  let  us  not  omit  to  note  .that  along  with  the  no- 
tion of  transmutation  is  involved  the  notion  of  duality. 
These  things  have  obviously  two  states  of  existence. 

§  55.  Did  we  not  thoughtlessly  assume  that  truths  made 
obvious  by  culture  are  naturally  obvious,  we  should  see  that 
an  unlimited  belief  in  change  of  shape,  as  well  as  in  change 
of  substance,  is  one  which  the  savage  cannot  avoid.  From 
early  childhood  we  hear  remarks  implying  that  certain  trans- 
formations which  living  things  undergo  are  matters  of 
course,  while  other  transformations  are  impossible.  This 
distinction  we  suppose  to  have  been  manifest  at  the  outset. 
But  at  the  outset,  the  observed  metamorphoses  suggest  that 
any  metamorphosis  may  occur. 

*  Let  me  here  give  an  instance  of  the  way  in  which  facts  of  this  kind  may 
affect  men's  beliefs.  In  his  Two  Years  in  a  Levantine  Family,  Mr.  St.  John, 
commenting  on  the  extreme  credulity  of  the  Egyptians,  names,  in  illustration, 
a  report  which  was  spread  and  widely  credited  that  certain  villagers  had  been 
turned  into  stones.  Belief  of  this  report  seems,  to  us,  astonishing  ;  but  it 
seems  less  astonishing  when  all  the  circumstances  are  known.  Not  many 
miles  from  Cairo  there  exists  an  extensive  silicified  forest — stumps  and  prone 
trunks  in  great  numbers.  If  trees  can  be  turned  into  stones,  why  not  men  ? 
To  the  unscientific,  one  event  looks  just  as  likely  as  the  other. 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  113 

Consider  the  immense  contrast  in  form  as  in  texture 
between  -the  seed  and  the  plant.  Look  at  this  nut  with  hard 
brown  shell  and  white  kernel,  and  ask  what  basis  there  is 
for  the  expectation  that  from  it  will  presently  come  a  soft 
shoot  and  green  leaves.  When  young  we  are  told  that  the 
OHG  grows  into  the  other;  and  the  blank  form  of  explana- 
tion being  thus  filled  up,  we  cease  to  wonder  and  inquire. 
Yet  it  needs  but  to  consider  what  thought  would  have  arisen 
had  there  been  no  one  to  give  this  mere  verbal  solution,  to 
see  that  the  thought  would  have  been — transformation. 
Apart  from  hypothesis,  the  bare  fact  is  that  a  thing  having 
one  size,  shape,  and  colour,  becomes  a  thing  having  an  utterly 
different  size,  shape,  and  colour. 

Similarly  with  the  eggs  of  birds.  A  few  days  since  this 
nest  contained  five  rounded,  smooth,  speckled  bodies;  and 
now  in  place  of  them  are  as  many  chicks  gaping  for  food. 
We  are  brought  up  to  the  idea  that  the  eggs  have  been 
hatched ;  and  with  this  semblance  of  interpretation  we  are 
content.  This  extreme  change  in  visible  and  tangible  char- 
acters being  recognized  as  one  constantly  occurring  in  the 
order  of  nature,  is  therefore  regarded  as  not  remarkable. 
But  to  a  mind  occupied  by  no  generalized  experiences  of  its 
own  or  of  others,  there  would  seem  nothing  more  strange 
in  the  production  of  chicks  from  nuts  than  in  the  produc- 
tion of  chicks  from  eggs:  a  metamorphosis  of  the  kind  we 
think  impossible,  would  stand  on  the  same  footing  as  one 
which  familiarity  has  made  us  think  natural.  Indeed,  on 
remembering  that  there  still  survives,  or  till  lately  sur- 
vived, the  belief  that  barnacle-geese  arise  from  barnacles 
— on  learning  that  in  the  early  Transactions  of  the  Royal 
Society,  there  is  a  paper  describing  a  barnacle  as  showing 
traces  of  the  young  bird  it  is  about  to  produce;  it  will  be 
seen  that  only  by  advanced  science  has  there  been  discrimi- 
nated the  natural  organic  transformations,  from  transfor- 
mations which  to  ignorance  seem  just  as  likely. 

The  insect-world  yields  instances  of  metamorphoses  even 


THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

more  misleading.  To  a  branch  above  his  wigwam,  the  sav- 
age saw  a  few  days  ago,  a  caterpillar  hanging  with  its  head 
downwards.  Now  in  the  same  place  hangs  a  differently 
formed  and  coloured  thing — a  chrysalis.  A  fortnight  after 
there  comes  out  a  butterfly:  leaving  a  thin  empty  case. 
These  insect-metamorphoses,  as  we  call  them,  which  we  now 
interpret  as  processes  of  evolution  presenting  certain  defi- 
nitely-marked stages,  are  in  the  eyes  of  the  primitive  man, 
metamorphoses  in  the  original  sense.  He  accepts  them  as 
actual  changes  of  one  thing  into  another  thing  utterly  un- 
like it. 

How  readily  the  savage  confounds  these  metamorphoses 
which  really  occur,  with  metamorphoses  which  seem  to  occur 
but  are  impossible,  we  shall  perceive  on  noting  a  few  cases 
of  mimicry  by  insects,  and  the  conclusions  they  lead  to. 
Many  caterpillars,  beetles,  moths,  butterflies,  simulate  the 
objects  by  which  they  are  commonly  surrounded.  The 
Onychocerm  Scorpio  is  so  exactly  like,  "  in  colour  and 
rugosity,"  to  a  piece  of  the  bark  of  the  particular  tree  it 
frequents,  "  that  until  it  moves  it  is  absolutely  invisible:  " 
thus  raising  the  idea  that  a  piece  of  the  bark  itself  has  be- 
come alive.  Another  beetle,  OnthopMlus  sulcatus  is  <l  like 
the  seed  of  an  umbelliferous  plant;  "  another  is  "  undistin- 
guishable  by  the  eye  from  the  dung  of  caterpillars;  "  some 
of  the  CassidcB  "  resemble  glittering  dew-drops  upon  the 
leaves ;  "  and  there  is  a  weevil  so  coloured  and  formed  that, 
on  rolling  itself  up,  it  "  becomes  a  mere  oval  brownish  lump, 
which  it  is  hopeless  to  look  for  among  the  similarly-coloured 
little  stones  and  earth  pellets  among  which  it  lies  motion- 
less," and  out  of  which  it  emerges  after  its  fright,  as  though 
a  pebble  had  become  animated.  To  these  examples  given 
by  Mr.  Wallace,  may  be  added  that  of  the  "  walking-stick 
insects,"  so  called  "  from  their  singular  resemblance  to  twigs 
and  branches." 

"  Some  of  these  are  a  foot  long  and  as  thick  as  one's  finger,  and 
their  whole  colouring,  form,  rugosity,  and  the  arrangement  of  the 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  115 

head,  legs,  and  antennae,  are  such  as  to  render  them  absolutely  iden- 
tical in  appearance  with  dead  sticks.  They  hang  loosely  about 
shrubs  in  the  forest,  and  have  the  extraordinary  habit  of  stretching 
out  their  legs  unsymmetrically,  so  as  to  render  the  deception  more 
complete." 

What  wonderful  resemblances  exist,  and  what  illusions 
they  may  lead  to,  will  be  fully  perceived  by  those  who  have 
seen,  in  Mr.  Wallace's  collection,  butterflies  of  the  Indian 
genus  Kallima,)  placed  amid  the  objects  they  simulate.  Set- 
tling on  branches  bearing  dead  leaves,  and  closing  its  wings, 
one  of  these  then  resembles  a  dead  leaf,  not  only  in  general 
shape,  colour,  markings,  but  in  so  seating  itself  that  the 
processes  of  the  lower  wings  unite  to  form  the  representa- 
tion of  a  foot-stalk.  When  it  takes  flight,  the  impression 
produced  is  that  one  of  the  leaves  has  changed  into  a  butter- 
fly. This  impression  is  greatly  strengthened  when  the  crea- 
ture is  caught.  On  the  under-side  of  the  closed  wings,  is 
clearly  marked  the  mid-rib,  running  right  across  them  both 
from  foot-stalk  to  apex;  and  here,  too,  are  lateral  veins. 
Nay,  this  is  not  all.  Mr.  Wallace  says — 

"We  find  representatives  of  leaves  in  every  stage  of  decay,  vari- 
ously blotched  and  mildewed  and  pierced  with  holes,  and  in  many 
cases  irregularly  covered  with  powdery  black  dots  gathered  into 
patches  and  spots,  so  closely  resembling  the  various  kinds  of  minute 
fungi  that  grow  on  dead  leaves  that  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  thinking 
at  first  sight  that  the  butterflies  themselves  have  been  attacked  by 
real  fungi." 

On  recalling  the  fact  that,  a  few  generations  ago,  civil- 
ized people  believed,  as  many  civilized  people  believe  still, 
that  decaying  meat  is  itself  transformed  into  maggots — on 
being  reminded  that  our  peasantry  at  the  present  time,  think 
the  thread-like  aquatic  worm  Gordius,  is  a  horsehair  that 
has  fallen  into  the  water  and  become  living;  we  shall  see 
that  these  extreme  resemblances  inevitably  raise  a  suspicion 
of  actual  metamorphoses.  That  this  suspicion,  so  suggested, 
becomes  a  belief,  is  a  proved  fact.  In  Java  and  neighbour- 
ing regions  inhabited  by  it,  that  marvellous  insect,  "  the 


116  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

walking  leaf,"  is  positively  asserted  to  be  a  leaf  that  lias 
become  animated.  What  else  should  it  be  ?  In  the  absence 
of  that  explanation  of  mimicry  so  happily  hit  upon  by  Mr. 
Bates,  no  other  origin  for  such  wonderful  likenesses  between 
things  wholly  unallied  can  be  imagined. 

Once  established,  the  belief  in  transformation  easily  ex- 
tends itself  to  other  classes  of  things.  Between  an  egg  and 
a  young  bird,  there  is  a  far  greater  contrast  in  appearance 
and  structure  than  between  one  mammal  and  another.  The 
tadpole,  with  a  tail  and  no  limbs,  differs  from  the  young 
frog  with  four  limbs  and  no  tail,  more  than  a  man  differs 
from  a  hyaena;  for  both  of  these  have  four  limbs,  and  both 
laugh.  Hence  there  seems  ample  justification  for  the  belief 
that  any  kind  of  creature  may  be  transformed  into  any 
other;  and  so  there  results  the  theory  of  metamorphosis  in 
general,  which  rises  into  an  explanation  everywhere  em- 
ployed without  check. 

Here,  again,  we  have  to  note  that  while  initiating  and 
fostering  the  notion  that  things  of  all  kinds  may  suddenly 
change  their  forms,  the  experiences  of  transformations  con- 
firm the  notion  of  duality.  Each  object  is  not  only  what  it 
seems,  but  is  potentially  something  else. 

§  56.  What  are  shadows?  Familiar  as  has  become  the 
interpretation  of  them  in  terms  of  physical  causation,  we  do 
not  ask  how  they  look  to  the  absolutely  ignorant. 

Those  from  whose  minds  the  thoughts  of  childhood  have 
not  wholly  vanished,  will  remember  the  interest  they  once 
felt  in  watching  their  shadows — moving  legs  and  arms  and 
fingers,  and  observing  how  corresponding  parts  of  the 
shadows  moved.  By  a  child  a  shadow  is  thought  of  as  an 
entity.  I  do  not  assert  this  without  evidence.  A  memo- 
randum made  in  1858-9,  in  elucidation  of  the  ideas  de- 
scribed in  the  book  of  Williams  on  the  Fijians,  then  recently 
published,  concerns  a  little  girl  seven  years  old,  who  did  not 
know  what  a  shadow  was,  and  to  whom  I  could  give  no  con- 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS. 

ception  of  its  true  nature.  On  ignoring  acquired 

knowledge,  we  shall  see  this  difficulty  to  be  quite  natural. 
A  thing  having  outlines,  and  differing  from  surrounding 
things  in  colour,  and  especially  a  thing  which  moves,  is,  in 
other  cases,  a  reality.  Why  is  not  this  a  reality  ?  The  con- 
ception of  it  as  merely  a  negation  of  light,  cannot  be  framed 
until  after  the  behaviour  of  light  is  in  some  degree  under- 
stood. Doubtless  the  uncultured  among  ourselves,  without 
formulating  the  truth  that  light,  proceeding  in  straight 
lines,  necessarily  leaves  unlighted  spaces  behind  opaque  ob- 
jects, nevertheless  regard  a  shadow  as  naturally  attending 
an  object  exposed  to  light,  and  as  not  being  anything  real. 
But  this  is  one  of  the  countless  cases  in  which  inquiry  is 
set  at  rest  by  a  verbal  explanation.  "  It's  only  a  shadow," 
is  the  answer  given  in  early  days;  and  this  answer,  repeat- 
edly given,  deadens  wonder  and  stops  further  thought. 

The  primitive  man,  left  to  himself,  necessarily  concludes 
a  shadow  to  be  an  actual  existence,  which  belongs  to  the 
person  casting  it.  lie  simply  accepts  the  facts.  Whenever 
the  sun  or  moon  is  visible,  he  sees  this  attendant  thing  which 
rudely  resembles  him  in  shape,  which  moves  when  he  moves, 
which  now  goes  before  him,  now  keeps  by  his  side,  now 
follows  him,  which  lengthens  and  shortens  as  the  ground  in- 
clines this  way  or  that,  and  which  distorts  itself  in  strange 
ways  as  he  passes  by  irregular  surfaces.  True,  he  cannot  see 
it  in  cloudy  weather;  but,  in  the  absence  of  a  physical  in- 
terpretation, this  simply  proves  that  his  attendant  comes 
out  only  on  bright  days  and  bright  nights.  It  is  true,  also, 
that  such  resemblance  as  his  shadow  bears  to  him,  and  its 
approximate  separateness  from  him,  are  shown  only  when 
he  stands  up :  on  lying  down  it  seems  to  disappear  and  par- 
tially merge  into  him.  But  this  observation  confirms  his 
impression  of  its  reality.  The  greater  or  less  separateness 
of  his  own  shadow,  reminds  him  of  cases  where  a  shadow  is 
quite  separate.  When  watching  a  fish  in  the  water  on  a  fine 
day,  he  sees  a  dark,  fish-shaped  patch  on  the  bottom  at  a  con- 
9 


118  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

siderable  distance  from  the  fish,  but  nevertheless  following 
it  hither  and  thither.  Lifting  up  his  eyes,  he  observes  dark 
tracts  moving  along  the  mountain  sides — tracts  which, 
whether  traced  or  not  to  the  clouds  that  cast  them,  are  seen 
to  be  widely  disconnected  from  objects.  Hence  it  is  clear 
that  shadows,  often  so  closely  joined  with  their  objects  as  to 
be  hardly  distinguishable  from  them,  may  become  distinct 
and  remote. 

Thus,  by  minds  beginning  to  generalize,  shadows  must 
be  conceived  as  existences  appended  to,  but  capable  of  sep- 
aration from,  material  things.  And  that  they  are  so  con- 
ceived is  abundantly  proved.  The  Benin-negroes  regard 
men's  shadows  as  their  souls ;  and  the  Wanika  are  afraid  of 
their  own  shadows:  possibly  thinking,  as  some  other  negroes 
do,  that  their  shadows  watch  all  their  actions,  and  bear  wit- 
ness against  them.  The  Greenlanders  say  a  man's  shadow 
is  one  of  his  two  souls — the  one  which  goes  away  from  his 
body  at  night.  Among  the  Fijians,  too,  the  shadow  is  called 
"  the  dark  spirit,"  as  distinguished  from  another  which 
each  man  possesses.  And  the  community  of  meaning,  here- 
after to  be  noted  more  fully,  which  various  unallied  lan- 
guages betray  between  shade  and  spirit,  shows  us  the  same 
thing. 

These  illustrations  suggest  more  than  I  here  wish  to 
show.  The  ideas  of  the  uncivilized  as  we  now  find  them, 
have  developed  from  their  first  vague  forms  into  forms  hav- 
ing more  coherence  and  definiteness.  We  must  neglect  the 
special  characters  of  these  ideas,  and  consider  only  that  most 
general  character  with  which  they  began.  This  proves  to 
be  the  character  inferred  above.  Shadows  are  realities 
which,  always  intangible  and  often  invisible,  nevertheless 
severally  belong  to  their  visible  and  tangible  correlatives; 
and  the  facts  they  present,  furnish  further  materials  for 
developing  both  the  notion  of  apparent  and  unapparent  states 
of  being,  and  the  notion  of  a  duality  in  things. 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  119 

§  57.  Other  phenomena,  in  some  respects  allied,  yield 
to  these  notions  still  more  materials.  I  refer  to  reflections. 

If  the  rude  resemblance  which  a  shadow  bears  to  the 
person  casting  it,  raises  the  idea  of  a  second  entity,  much 
more  must  the  exact  resemblance  of  a  reflection  do  this.  Ke- 
peating  all  the  details  of  form,  of  light  and  shade,  of  colour, 
and  mimicking  even  the  grimaces  of  the  original,  this  image 
cannot  at  first  be  interpreted  otherwise  than  as  an  exist- 
ence. Only  by  experiment  is  it  ascertained  that  to  the  visual 
impressions  there  are  not,  in  this  case,  those  corresponding 
tactual  impressions  yielded  by  most  other  things.  What 
results?  Simply  the  notion  of  an  existence  which  can  be 
seen  but  not  felt.  Optical  interpretation  is  impossible.  That 
the  image  is  formed  by  reflected  rays,  cannot  be  conceived 
while  physical  knowledge  does  not  exist;  and  in  the  ab- 
sence of  authoritative  statement  that  the  reflection  is  a  mere 
appearance,  it  is  inevitably  taken  for  a  reality — a  reality 
in  some  way  belonging  to  the  person  whose  traits  it  simu- 
lates and  whose  actions  it  mocks.  Moreover,  these  dupli- 
cates seen  in  the  water,  yield  to  the  primitive  man  verifica- 
tions of  certain  other  beliefs.  Deep  down  in  the  clear  pool, 
are  there  not  clouds  like  those  he  sees  above?  The  clouds 
above  appear  and  disappear.  Has  not  the  existence  of  these 
clouds  below  something  to  do  with  it?  At  night,  again, 
seeming  as  though  far  underneath  the  surface  of  the  water, 
are  stars  as  bright  as  those  overhead.  Are  there,  then,  two 
places  for  the  stars?  and  did  those  which  disappeared  during 
the  day  go  below  where  the  rest  are?  Once  more,  over- 
hanging the  pool  is  the  dead  tree  from  which  he  breaks  off- 
branches  for  firewood.  Is  there  not  an  image  of  it  too?  and 
the  branch  which  he  burns  and  which  vanishes  while  burn- 
ing— is  there  not  some  connexion  between  its  invisible  state 
and  that  image  of  it  in  the  water  which  he  could  not  touch, 
any  more  than  he  can  now  touch  the  consumed  branch? 

That  reflections  thus  generate  a  belief  that  each  person 
has  a  duplicate,  usually  unseen,  but  which  may  be  seen  on 


120  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

going  to  the  water-side  and  looking  in,  is  not  an  a  priori  in- 
ference only:  there  are  facts  verifying  it.  Besides  "  the 
dark  spirit/'  identified  with  the  shadow,  which  the  Fijians 
say  goes  to  Hades,  they  say  each  man  has  another — "  his 
likeness  reflected  in  water  or  a  looking-glass,"  which  "  is 
supposed  to  stay  near  the  place  in  which  a  man  dies."  This 
belief  in  two  spirits,  is,  indeed,  the  most  consistent  one.  For 
are  not  a  man's  shadow  and  his  reflection  separate  ?  and  are 
they  not  co-existent  with  one  another  and  with  himself? 
Can  he  not,  standing  at  the  water-side,  observe  that  the  re- 
flection in  the  water  and  the  shadow  on  the  shore,  simul- 
taneously move  as  he  moves?  Clearly,  while  both  belong 
to  him,  the  two  are  independent  of  him  and  one  another; 
for  both  may  be  absent  together,  and  either  may  be  present 
in  the  absence  of  the  other. 

Early  theories  about  the  nature  of  this  duplicate  are  now 
beside  the  question.  We  are  concerned  only  with  the  fact 
that  it  is  thought  of  as  real.  Here  is  revealed  another  class 
of  facts  confirming  the  notion  that  existences  have  their 
visible  and  invisible  states,  and  strengthening  the  implica- 
tion of  a  duality  in  each  existence. 

§  58.  Let  any  one  ask  himself  what  would  be  his  thought 
if,  in  a  state  of  child-like  ignorance,  he  were  to  hear  repeated 
a  shout  which  he  uttered.  Would  he  not  inevitably  conclude 
that  the  answering  shout  came  from  another  person?  Suc- 
ceeding shouts  severally  responded  to  in  tones  like  his  own, 
yet  without  visible  source,  would  rouse  the  idea  that  this 
person  was  mocking  him,  and  at  the  same  time  concealing 
himself.  A  futile  search  in  the  wood  or  under  the  cliff, 
would  end  in  the  conviction  that  the  hiding  person  was  very 
cunning:  especially  when  joined  to  the  fact  that  here,  in 
the  spot  whence  the  answer  before  came,  no  answer  was  now 
given — obviously  because  it  would  disclose  the  mocker's 
whereabouts.  If  at  this  same  place  on  subsequent  occasions, 
a  responsive  shout  always  came  to  any  passer-by  who  called 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.  121 

out,  the  resulting  thought  would  be  that  in  this  place  there 
dwelt  one  of  these  invisible  forms — a  man  who  had  passed 
into  an  invisible  state,  or  who  could  become  invisible  when 
sought. 

No  physical  explanation  of  an  echo  can  be  framed  by  the 
uncivilized  man.  What  does  he  know  about  the  reflection  of 
sound-waves? — what,  indeed,  is  known  about  the  reflection 
of  sound-waves  by  the  mass  of  our  own  people?  Were  it 
not  that  the  spread  of  knowledge  has  modified  the  mode  of 
thought  throughout  all  classes,  producing  everywhere  a 
readiness  to  accept  what  we  call  natural  interpretations,  and 
to  assume  that  there  are  natural  interpretations  to  occur- 
rences not  comprehended;  there  would  even  now  be  an. 
explanation  of  echoes  as  caused  by  unseen  beings. 

That  to  the  primitive  mind  they  thus  present  themselves, 
is  shown  by  facts.  Of  the  Abipones,  we  read  that  "  what 
became  of  the  Lokal  [spirit  of  the  dead]  they  knew  not,  but 
they  fear  it,  and  believe  that  the  echo  was  its  voice."  The 
Indians  of  Cumana  (Central  America)  "  believed  the  soul  to 
be  immortal,  that  it  did  eat  and  drink  in  a  plain  where  it 
resided,  and  that  the  echo  was  its  answer  to  him  that  spoke 
or  called."  Narrating  his  voyage  down  the  Niger,  Lander 
says  that  from  time  to  time,  as  they  came  to  a  turn  in  the 
creek,  the  captain  of  the  canoe  halloed  "  to  the  fetish,  and 
where  an  echo  was  returned,  half-a-glass  of  rum,  and  a  piece 
of  yam  and  fish,  were  thrown  into  the  water  ...  on  asking 
Boy  the  reason  why  he  was  throwing  away  the  provisions 
thus,  he  asked :  '  Did  you  not  hear  the  fetish  ? ' 

Here,  as  before,  I  must  ask  the  reader  to  ignore  these 
special  interpretations,  acceptance  of  which  forestalls  the 
argument.  Attention  is  now  drawn  to  this  evidence  simply 
as  confirming  the  inference  that,  in  the  absence  of  physical 
explanation,  an  echo  is  conceived  as  the  voice  of  some  one 
who  avoids  being  seen.  So  that  once  more  we  have  duality 
implied — an  invisible  state  as  well  as  a  visible  state. 


122  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

§  59.  To  a  mind  unfurnished  with  any  ideas  save  those 
of  its  own  gathering,  surrounding  nature  thus  presents  multi- 
tudinous cases  of  seemingly-arbitrary  change.  In  the  sky 
and  on  the  earth,  things  make  their  appearance  and  disap- 
pear; and  there  is  nothing  to  show  why  they  do  so.  Here 
on  the  surface  and  there  imbedded  in  the  ground,  are  things 
that  have  been  transmuted  in  substance — changed  from  flesh 
to  stone,  from  wood  to  flint.  Living  bodies  on  all  sides  ex- 
emplify metamorphosis  in  ways  marvellous  enough  to  the 
instructed,  and  to  the  primitive  man  quite  incomprehensi- 
ble. And  the  conception  of  two  or  more  inter-changeable 
states  of  existence,  impressed  on  him  by  such  phenomena, 
is  again  impressed  on  him  by  shadows,  reflections,  and 
echoes. 

Did  we  not  thoughtlessly  accept  as  self-evident  the  truths 
elaborated  during  civilization  and  acquired  insensibly  dur- 
ing our  early  days,  we  should  at  once  see  that  these  ideas 
which  the  primitive  man  forms,  are  inevitably  formed.  The 
laws  of  mental  association  necessitate  these  primitive  notions 
of  transmutation,  of  metamorphosis,  of  duality;  and,  until 
experiences  have  been  systematized,  no  restraints  are  put 
on  them.  With  the  eyes  of  developed  knowledge  we  look 
at  snow  as  a  particular  f  onn  of  crystallized  water,  and  at  hail 
as  drops  of  rain  which  congealed  as  they  fell.  When  these 
become  fluid  we  say  they  have  thawed — thinking  of  the 
change  as  a  physical  effect  of  heat ;  and,  similarly,  when  the 
hoar  frost  fringing  the  sprays  turns  into  hanging  drops,  or 
when  the  surface  of  the  pool  solidifies  and  again  liquefies. 
But  looked  at  with  the  eyes  of  absolute  ignorance,  these 
changes  are  transmutations  of  substance — passings  from  one 
kind  of  existence  into  another  kind  of  existence.  And  in  like 
ways  are  conceived  all  the  changes  above  enumerated. 

Let  us  now  ask  what  happens  in  the  primitive  mind  when 
there  has  been  accumulated  this  chaotic  assemblage  of  crude 
ideas,  having,  amid  their  differences,  certain  resemblances. 
In  conformity  with  the  law  of  evolution,  every  aggregate 


PRIMITIVE  IDEAS.      .  123 

tends  to  integrate,  and  to  differentiate  while  it  integrates. 
The  aggregate  of  primitive  ideas  must  do  this.  After  what 
manner  will  it  do  it?  These  multitudinous  vague  notions 
form  a  loose  mass  without  order.  They  slowly  segregate, 
like  cohering  with  like,  and  so  forming  indefinitely-marked 
groups.  When  these  groups  begin  to  form  a  consolidated 
whole,  constituting  a  general  conception  of  the  way  in  which 
things  at  large  go  on,  they  must  do  it  in  the  same  way :  such 
coherence  of  the  groups  as  arises,  must  be  due  to  some  like- 
ness among*  the  members  of  all  the  groups.  We  have  seen 
that  there  is  such  a  likeness — this  common  trait  of  duality 
joined  with  this  aptitude  for  passing  from  one  mode  of  ex- 
istence to  another.  Integration  must  be  set  up 
by  the  recognition  of  some  conspicuous  typical  case.  When, 
into  a  heap  of  detached  observations,  is  introduced  an  ob- 
servation akin  to  them  in  which  a  causal  relation  is  discerni- 
ble, it  forthwith  commences  assimilating  to  itself  from  this 
heap  of  observations,  those  which  are  congruous;  and  tends 
even  to  coerce  into  union  those  of  which  the  congruity  is  not 
manifest.  One  may  say  that  as  the  protoplasm  forming  an 
unfertilized  germ,  remains  inert  until  the  matter  of  a  sperm- 
cell  is  joined  with  it,  but  begins  to  organize  when  this  addi- 
tion is  made;  so  a  loose  mass  of  observations  continues  un- 
systematized  in  the  absence  of  an  hypothesis,  but  under  the 
stimulus  of  an  hypothesis  undergoes  changes  bringing  about 
a  coherent  systematic  doctrine.  What  particular 
example,  then,  of  this  prevalent  duality,  plays  the  part  of 
an  organizing  principle  to  the  aggregate  of  primitive  ideas? 
We  must  not  look  for  an  hypothesis  properly  so  called :  an 
hypothesis  is  an  implement  of  inquiry  not  to  be  framed  by 
the  primitive  mind.  We  must  look  for  some  experience 
in  which  this  duality  is  forcibly  thrust  on  the  attention.  As 
a  consciously-held  hypothesis  is  based  on  some  obtrusive 
instance  of  a  relation,  which  other  instances  are  suspected 
to  be  like;  so  the  particular  primitive  notion  which  is  to 
serve  as  an  unconscious  hypothesis,  setting  up  organization 


124  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

in  this  aggregate  of  primitive  notions,  must  be  one  con- 
spicuously exemplifying  their  common  trait. 

First  identifying  this  typical  notion,  we  must  afterwards 
enter  on  a  survey  of  the  conceptions  which  result.  It  will  be 
needful  to  pursue  various  lines  of  inquiry  and  exposition  not 
manifestly  relevant  to  our  subject;  and  it  will  also  be  need- 
ful to  contemplate  much  evidence  furnished  by  men  who 
have  advanced  beyond  the  savage  state.  But  this  discursive 
treatment  is  unavoidable.  Until  we  can  figure  to  ourselves 
with  approximate  truth  the  primitive  system  of  thought,  we 
cannot  understand  primitive  conduct;  and  rightly  to  con- 
ceive the  primitive  system  of  thought,  we  must  compare  the 
systems  found  in  many  societies:  helping  ourselves  by  ob- 
serving its  developed  forms,  to  verify  our  conclusions  re- 
specting its  undeveloped  form.* 

*  The  reader  who  is  surprised  to  find  in  the  succeeding  chapters  so  much 
space  devoted  to  the  genesis  of  those  "  superstitions,"  as  we  call  them,  which 
constitute  the  primitive  man's  Theory  of  Ti  i.igs,  will  get  a  clue  on  turning  to 
the  first  part  of  my  Essay  on  "  Manners  and  Fashion,"  originally  published  in 
1854  (see  Essays,  &c.,  Vol.  I).  The  conception,  there  briefly  indicated,  of  the 
way  in  which  social  organization  is  affected  by  the  way  in  which  his  emotions 
are  puidcd  by  his  beliefs,  I  have  been,  since  that  date,  slowly  developing ;  and 
the  following  chapters  present  it  in  a  complete  form.  Beyond  publishing  an 
article  on  "  The  Origin  of  Animal-Worship  "  in  May,  1870, 1  have,  in  the  mean- 
time, done  nothing  towards  setting  forth  these  developed  views  ;  othei  subjects 
having  had  prior  claims. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    IDEAS    OF    THE    ANIMATE    AND    THE    INANIMATE. 

§  60.  AT  first  sight,  the  difference  between  an  animal 
and  a  plant  seems  greater  than  the  difference  between  a  plant 
and  a  lifeless  object.  Its  frequent  movements  distinguish 
a  quadruped  or  a  bird  from  inert  things;  but  a  plant,  inert 
in  most  respects,  is  not  thus  distinguished.  Only  to  beings 
capable  of  making  those  comparisons  between  past  and  pres- 
ent by  which  growth  is  detected  and  the  cycle  of  reproduc- 
tive changes  traced,  can  it  become  manifest  that  plants  are 
allied  with  animals  more  than  with  other  entities.  The 
earliest  classification,  then,  puts  animals  into  one  group  and 
the  rest  of  things  into  another. 

Hence,  in  considering  how  there  arises  in  consciousness 
the  distinction  between  the  living  and  the  not-living,  we  may, 
for  a  while,  neglect  the  phenomena  of  plant-life  and  consider 
only  those  of  animal-life. 

To  understand  the  nature  of  the  conceived  distinction 
in  the  mind  of  the  primitive  man,  we  must  observe  the  de- 
velopment of  it  through  lower  forms  of  consciousness. 

§  61.  If,  when  wandering  some  sunny  day  on  the  sea- 
shore among  masses  of  rock  covered  with  "  acorn-shells," 
one  stops  to  examine  something,  a  feeble  hiss  many  be  heard. 
On  investigation,  it  will  be  found  that  this  sound  proceeds 
from  the  acorn-shells.  During  low  tide  they  commonly 

remain  with  their  valves  not  quite  shut;  but  those  on  which 

125 


126  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

a  shadow  is  suddenly  cast  begin  to  close,  and  by  simultane- 
ous closure  of  the  great  numbers  covered  by  the  shadow,  this 
faint  noise  is  produced.  Here  the  fact  to  be  observed  is 
that  these  cirrhipeds,  which  are  transformed  crustaceans 
having  aborted  eyes  imbedded  in  their  bodies,  and  vision 
which  suffices  only  to  discriminate  light  from  ctarkness,  draw 
to  the  doors  of  their  cells  when  the  light  is  all  at  once  inter- 
cepted. Ordinarily,  something  alive  casts  the  shadow — 
there  is  an  adjacent  source  of  danger.  But  as  the  shadow 
may  be  cast  by  a  sharp-edged  cloud,  which  obscures  the  sun 
with  adequate  suddenness,  an  adjacent  living  body  is  not 
always  the  cause :  the  test  is  an  imperfect  one.  Still,  we  see 
that  deep  down  among  creatures  thus  unintelligent,  there 
is  a  vague  general  response  to  an  indication  of  adjacent  life: 
the  indication  being  a  change  that  implies  a  moving  body. 

Various  inferior  types  whose  lives  are  carried  on  mainly 
by  reflex  actions,  display  no  very  marked  advance  on  this 
mode  of  discriminating  the  living  from  the  not-living,  as 
visually  presented.  Further  along  the  shore,  in  the  tide- 
pools,  are  shrimps,  which  dart  in  all  directions  when  a  large 
body  comes  near;  and  when  decaying  sea-weed  is  disturbed, 
the  sea-fleas  jump  at  random,  whatever  may  have  caused 
the  disturbance.  So  in  the  neighbouring  fields,  the  insects, 
not  distinguishing  the  shapes  of  moving  objects  or  their 
kinds  of  motion,  fly  or  leap  when  sudden  great  changes  of 
visual  impression  are  made  on  them — each  such  change  nsu- 
ally  implying  a  living  body  near  at  hand.  In  these  cases, 
as  in  the  cases  of  caterpillars  that  roll  themselves  up  when 
touched,  the  action  is  automatic.  After  the  vivid  nervous 
stimulus  comes  a  strong  motor  discharge,  resulting  in  flight 
or  in  diffused  contraction  of  the  muscles. 

In  such  cases  the  motion  which  implies  life  is  confounded 
with  the  motion  which  does  not.  The  kind  of  mental  act  is 
like  that  occurring  in  ourselves  when  some  large  object  sud- 
denly passes  close  in  front.  An  involuntary  start  results, 
before  there  is  time  to  decide  whether  the  object  is  alive  or 


THE  IDEAS  OF  THE  ANIMATE  AND  INANIMATE.  127 

dead — a  source  of  danger  or  not.  The  primary  suggestion 
with  us,  as  with  these  lower  creatures,  is  that  motion  implies 
life;  but  whereas  with  us  conscious  observation  instantly 
disproves  or  verifies  this  suggestion,  with  them  it  does  not. 

§  62.  What  is  the  first  specialization  of  this  original  con- 
sciousness ?  How  do  superior  creatures  begin  to  qualify  this 
association  between  motion  and  life,  in  such  way  as  to  ex- 
elude  from  the  class  of  living  things  a  number  which  move 
but  are  not  living?  Where  intelligence  rises  beyond  the 
merely  automatic,  the  motion  implying  life  begins  to  be 
distinguished  from  other  motion  by  its  spontaneity.  With- 
out being  struck  or  pushed  by  anything  external,  bodies 
which  are  alive  suddenly  change  from  rest  to  movement,  or 
from  movement  to  rest.  Rooks  show  appreciation  of  this 
difference.  Watching  doubtfully  as  you  pass  in  the  distance, 
they  rise  into  the  air  if  you  stop;  or,  not  doing  this,  do  it 
when  you  walk  on. 

That  the  spontaneity  of  the  motion  serves  as  a  test,  is 
clearly  shown  by  the  behaviour  of  animals  in  presence  of  a 
railway  train,  which  shows  no  spontaneity.  In  the  early 
days  of  railways  they  displayed  great  alarm;  but  after  a 
time,  familiarized  with  the  roar  and  the  swift  motion  of  this 
something  which,  appearing  in  the  distance  rushed  by  and 
disappeared  in  the  distance,  they  became  regardless  of  it. 
The  cattle  now  continue  to  graze;  and  even  the  partridges 
on  the  embankment-slopes  scarcely  raise  their  heads. 

Converse  evidence  is  yielded  by  the  behaviour  of  a  dog 
mentioned  by  Mr.  Darwin.  Like  others  of  his  kind,  and' 
like  superior  animals  generally,  he  was  regardless  of  the 
swaying  flowers  and  the  leaves  occasionally  rustled  by  the 
summer  breeze.  But  there  happened  to  be  on  the  lawn  an 
opened  parasol.  From  time  to  time  the  breeze  stirred  this; 
and  when  it  did  so,  the  dog  growled  fiercely  and  barked. 
Conscious,  as  his  experiences  had  made  him,  that  the  familiar 
agency  which  he  felt  raising  his  own  hair,  sufficed  also  to 


128  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

move  the  leaves  about,  and  that  consequently  their  motion 
was  not  self -produced,  he  had  not  observed  so  large  a  thing 
as  a  parasol  thus  moved.  Hence  arose  the  idea  of  some  liv- 
ing power — an  intruder. 

Again,  appearances  which  at  first  vividly  suggest  life, 
presently  cease  to  suggest  it  if  spontaneity  is  absent.  The 
behaviour  of  a  dog  before  a  looking-glass  proves  this.  At 
first  conceiving  the  reflected  image  to  be  another  dog,  he  is 
excited;  and  if  the  back  of  the  looking-glass  is  accessible, 
makes  attempts  to  reach  the  supposed  stranger.  When, 
however,  the  glass  is  so  placed,  say  in  a  chiffonier,  as  to  show 
him  the  image  very  frequently,  he  becomes  indifferent  to 
it.  For  what  reason?  The  appearance  does  not  spontane- 
ously move.  While  he  is  still,  it  remains  still;  and  any  mo- 
tion in  it  follows  motion  in  himself. 

§  63.  Yet  a  further  test  used  by  intelligent  animals  to 
discriminate  the  living  from  the  not-living,  is  the  adaptation 
of  motion  to  ends.  Amusing  herself  with  a  mouse  she  has 
caught,  the  cat,  if  it  remains  long  stationary,  touches  it  with 
her  paw  to  make  it  run.  Obviously  the  thought  is  that  a 
living  thing  disturbed  will  try  to  escape,  and  so  bring  a 
renewal  of  the  chase.  Not  only  is  it  expected  that  there 
will  be  self-produced  motion;  but  it  is  expected  that  this 
motion  will  be  away  from  danger.  Habitually  it  is  observ- 
able of  animals  that  when  failing  to  decide  by  the  odour 
whether  something  smelt  at  is  a  living  creature  or  not,  there 
is  an  anticipation  that  disturbance  will  cause  it  to  run  away 
if  it  is  alive.  And  even  the  behaviour  of  some  gregarious 
birds  when  one  of  their  number  has  been  shot,  shows  that  the 
absence  of  response  to  the  cries  and  movements  of  the  flock, 
leads  to  the  impression  that  their  companion  is  no  longer  one 
of  that  class  of  objects  known  as  animated. 

§  64.  Thus  in  the  ascent  from  low  to  high  types  of  crea- 
tures, the  power  of  distinguishing  the  animate  from  the 


THE  IDEAS  OF  THE  ANIMATE  AND  INANIMATE.  129 

inanimate  increases.  First  motion,  then  spontaneous  motion, 
then  adapted  spontaneous  motion,  are  the  successive  tests 
used  as  intelligence  progresses. 

Doubtless  other  traits  aid.  Sniffing  the  air,  a  deer  per- 
ceives by  something  in  it  the  proximity  of  an  enemy ;  and  a 
carnivore  often  follows  prey  by  the  scent  it  has  left.  But 
certain  odours,  though  concomitants  of  life,  are  not  used  as 
tests  of  life;  for  when  found,  the  objects  which  exhale  the 
odours  are  not  regarded  as  living  if  they  exhibit  none  of  the 
expected  motions.  Sounds,  too,  serve  as  indications;  but 
these,  when  caused  by  animals,  are  the  results  of  spontaneous 
motions,  and  are  taken  to  imply  life  only  because  they  ac- 
company other  spontaneous  motions. 

It  should  be  added  that  the  ability  thus  to  class  apart  the 
animate  and  the  inanimate,  is  inevitably  developed  in  the 
course  of  evolution.  Under  penalties  of  death  by  starvation 
or  destruction,  there  has  been  a  constant  cultivation  of  the 
power  to  discriminate  the  two,  and  a  consequent  increase 
of  it. 

§  65.  Shall  we  say  that  the  primitive  man  is  less  intelli- 
gent than  the  lower  mammals,  less  intelligent  than  birds  and 
reptiles,  less  intelligent  even  than  insects?  Unless  we  say 
this,  we  must  say  that  the  primitive  man  distinguishes  the 
living  from  the  not-living;  and  if  we  credit  him  with  intel- 
ligence higher  than  that  of  brutes,  we  must  infer  that  he 
distinguishes  the  living  from  the  not-living  better  than  brutes 
do.  The  tests  which  other  creatures  use,  and  which  the  su- 
perior among  them  rightly  use  in  nearly  all  cases,  he  also 
must  use :  the  only  difference  being  that  occasional  errors  of 
classing  into  which  the  most  developed  among  other  crea- 
tures fall,  he  avoids. 

It  is  true  that  the  uncivilized  man  as  we  now  find  him, 
commonly  errs  in  his  classification  when  shown  certain  pro- 
ducts of  civilized  art,  having  traits  of  structure  or  behaviour 
•like  those  of  living  things.  By  the  Esquimaux,  Ross's  ves- 


130  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

sels  were  thought  alive — moving  as  they  did  without  oars; 
and  Thomson  says  of  the  New  Zealanders,  that  "  when 
Cook's  ship  hove  in  sight,  the  people  took  her  for  a  whale 
with  wings."  Andersson  tells  us  that  by  the  Bushmen,  a 
waggon  was  supposed  to  be  animated,  and  to  want  grass: 
its  complexity,  its  symmetry,  and  its  moving  wheels,  being 
irreconcilable  with  their  experiences  of  inanimate  things. 
"  It  is  alive  "  said  an  Arawak  to  Brett,  on  seeing  a  pocket- 
compass.  That  a  watch  is  taken  by  savages  for  a  living 
creature,  is  a  fact  frequently  noted.  And  we  have,  again, 
the  story  of  the  Esquimaux,  who,  ascribing  life  to  a  musical 
box  and  a  barrel-organ,  regarded  the  one  as  the  child  of  the 
other.  But  automatic  instruments  emitting  vari- 

ous sounds,  are  in  that  respect  strikingly  like  many  animated 
bodies.  The  motions  of  a  watch  seem  spontaneous;  and 
hence  the  ascription  of  life  is  quite  natural.  We  must  ex- 
clude mistakes  made  in  classing  those  things  which  advanced 
arts  have  made  to  simulate  living  things;  since  such  things 
mislead  the  primitive  man  in  ways  unlike  those  in  which 
he  can  be  misled  by  the  natural  objects  around  him.  Limit- 
ing ourselves  to  his  conceptions  of  these  natural  objects,  we 
cannot  but  conclude  that  his  classification  of  them  into  ani- 
mate and  inanimate,  is  substantially  correct. 

Concluding  this,  we  are  obliged  to  diverge  at  the  outset 
from  certain  interpretations  currently  given  of  his  super- 
stitions. The  belief,  tacit  or  avowed,  that  the  primitive  man 
thinks  there  is  life  in  things  which  are  not  living,  is  clearly 
an  untenable  belief.  Consciousness  of  the  difference  be- 
tween the  two,  growing  ever  more  definite  as  inteligence 
evolves,  must  be  in  him  more  definite  than  in  all  lower 
creatures.  To  suppose  that  without  cause  he  begins  to  con- 
found them,  is  to  suppose  the  process  of  evolution  is  in- 
verted. 

§  66.  It  is,  indeed,  urged  that  undeveloped  human  intel- 
ligence daily  shows  a  tendency  to  confound  them.  Certain 


THE  IDEAS  OP  THE  ANIMATE  AND  INANIMATE. 

facts  are  named  as  implying  that  children  fail  in  the  dis- 
crimination. Were  not  this  evidence  vitiated  by  the  sug- 
gestions of  adults,  it  would  have  weight.  But  on  remember- 
ing that  when  trying  to  pacify  a  child  that  has  hurt  itself 
against  some  inanimate  object,  a  mother  or  nurse  will  affect 
to  take  the  child's  part  against  this  object,  perhaps  saying, 
"  Naughty  chair  to  hurt  baby — beat  it!  "  we  shall  suspect 
that  the  notion  does  not  originate  with  the  child  but  is  given 
to  it.  The  habitual  behaviour  of  children  to  surrounding 
things  implies  no  such  confusion.  Unless  an  inanimate 
object  so  far  resembles  an  animate  one  as  to  suggest  the  idea 
that  it  may  be  a  motionless  living  creature  which  will  pres- 
ently move,  a  child  shows  no  fear  of  it.  True,  if  an  inani- 
mate thing  moves  without  a  perceived  external  force,  alarm 
results.  Unlike  as  a  thing  may  be  to  living  things,  yet  if  it 
displays  this  spontaneity  characteristic  of  living  things,  the 
idea  of  life  is  aroused,  and  a  scream  may  be  caused.  But 
otherwise,  life  is  no  more  ascribed  by  a  child  than  by  a 
puppy  or  a  kitten.*  Should  it  be  said  that  an 

*  Not  long  after  the  above  passage  was  published  I  met  with  a  good  illus- 
tration of  the  way  in  which  such  ideas  are  indirectly  suggested  to  children  by 
remarks  made,  and  then  ascribed  to  them  as  original ;  and,  strange  to  say,  this 
illustration  was  furnished  by  the  mistaken  interpretation  put  by  a  distinguished 
psychologist,  M.  Taine,  on  his  own  child's  question.  In  the  Revue  Philoso- 
phiquc  for  January,  1876,  p.  14,  he  wrote : — 

"  Un  soir  (trois  ans)  comme  elle  s'enquerait  do  la  lune,  on  lui  dit  qu'ellc  est 
allee  sc  couchcr,  et  la-dessus  clle  reprend  :  '  Ou  done  cst  la  bonne  dc  la  lunc  ? ' 
Tout  ceci  ressemble  fort  aux  Emotions  et  aux  conjectures  des  peuplcs  cnfants, 
a  leur  admiration  vive  et  profonde  en  face  des  prandcs  choses  naturelles,  a  la 
pui*s«ance  qu'exercent  aur  eux  1'analogie,  le  langage  ct  la  metaphore  pour  les 
conduire  aux  mythea  solairea,  lunaires,  etc.  Admettez  qu'un  pareil  clat 
d'csprit  soit  universel  a  une  6poque ;  on  dcvine  tout  dc  suite  les  cultes  ct  Ics 
16^ndes  qui  se  formeraient.  Ce  sent  cellea  des  Vedas,  de  Y-Ldda,  et  memo 
d'Homere." 

Now,  it  needs  but  to  observe  that  the  child  had  been  told  that  the  moon 
was  going  to  bed  to  see  that,  by  implication,  life  had  already  been  ascribed  to 
the  moon.  The  thought  obviously  was —  If  the  moon  goes  to  bed  it  must  have 
a  nurse,  as  I  have  a  nurse  when  I  go  to  bed,  and  the  coon  must  be  alive  as 
I  am. 


132  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

older  child,  endowing  its  playthings  with  personalities, 
speaks  of  them  and  fondles  them  as  though  they  were  liv- 
ing; the  reply  is  that  this  shows  not  belief  but  deliberate 
fiction.  Though  pretending  that  the  things  are  alive,  the 
child  does  not  really  think  them  so.  Were  its  doll  to  bite, 
it  would  be  no  less  astounded  than  an  adult  would  be.  To 
secure  that  pleasurable  action  of  unused  faculties  called 
play,  many  intelligent  creatures  thus  dramatize:  lacking 
the  living  objects,  they  will  accept  as  representing  them, 
non-living  objects — especially  if  these  can  be  made  to  simu- 
late life.  But  the  dog  pursuing  a  stick  does  not  think  it 
alive.  If  he  gnaws  it  after  catching  it,  he  does  but  carry 
out  his  dramatized  chase.  Did  he  think  the  stick  alive,  he 
would  bite  it  as  eagerly  before  it  was  thrown  as  after.  It 
is  further  alleged  that  even  the  grown  man  sometimes  be- 
trays a  lurking  tendency  to  think  of  inanimate  objects  as 
animate.  Made  angry  by  resistance  to  his  efforts,  he  may 
in  a  fit  of  rage  swear  at  some  senseless  thing,  or  dash  it  on 
the  ground,  or  kick  it.  But  the  obvious  interpretation  is 
that  anger,  like  every  strong  emotion,  tends  to  discharge 
itself  in  violent  muscular  actions,  which  must  take  some 
direction  or  other;  that  when,  as  in  many  past  cases,  the 
cause  of  the  anger  has  been  a  living  object,  the  muscular 
actions  have  been  directed  towards  the  injury  of  such  object ; 
and  that  the  established  association  directs  the  muscular 
discharges  in  the  same  way  when  the  object  is  not  living,  if 
there  is  nothing  to  determine  them  in  any  other  way.  But 
the  man  who  thus  vents  his  fury  cannot  be  said  to  think  the 
thing  is  alive,  though  this  mode  of  showing  his  irritation 
makes  him  seem  to  think  so. 

None  of  these  facts,  then,  imply  any  real  confusion  be- 
tween the  animate  and  the  inanimate.  The  power  to  dis- 
tinguish between  the  two,  which  is  one  of  the  first  powers 
vaguely  shown  even  by  creatures  devoid  of  special  senses, 
which  goes  on  increasing  as  intelligence  evolves,  and  which 
becomes  complete  in  the  civilized  man,  must  be  regarded  as 


THE  IDEAS  OF  THE  ANIMATE  AND  INANIMATE.   133 

approaching  completeness  in  the  uncivilized  man.  It  cannot 
be  admitted  that  he  confuses  things  which,  through  all  lower 
forms  of  mind,  have  been  growing  clear. 

§  67.  "  How,  then,  are  we  to  explain  his  supersti- 
tions? "  it  will  be  asked.  "  That  these  habitually  imply  the 
ascription  of  life  to  things  not  alive,  is  undeniable.  If  the 
primitive  man  has  no  proclivity  to  this  confusion,  how  is  it 
possible  to  explain  the  extreme  prevalence,  if  not  the  uni- 
versality, of  beliefs  which  give  personalities,  and  tacitly  as- 
cribe animation,  to  multitudes  of  inanimate  things?  " 

The  reply  is,  that  these  cannot  be  primary  beliefs,  but 
must  be  secondary  beliefs  into  which  the  primitive  man  is 
betrayed  during  his  early  attempts  to  understand  the  sur- 
rounding world.  The  incipiently-speculative  stage  must 
come  after  a  stage  in  which  there  is  no  speculation — a  stage 
in  which  there  yet  exists  no  sufficient  language  for  carry- 
ing on  speculation.  During  this  stage,  the  primitive  man 
no  more  tends  to  confound  animate  with  inanimate  than 
inferior  creatures  do.  If,  in  his  first  efforts  at  interpreta- 
tion, he  forms  conceptions  inconsistent  with  this  pre-estab- 
lished distinction  between  animate  and  inanimate,  it  must 
be  that  some  striking  experience  misleads  him — introduces 
a  germ  of  error  which  develops  into  an  erroneous  set  of  in- 
terpretations. 

What  is  the  germinal  error?  We  may  fitly  seek  for  it 
amid  those  experiences  which  mask  the  distinction  between 
animate  and  inanimate.  There  are  continually-recurring 
states  in  which  living  things  simulate  things  not  alive ;  and 
in  certain  attendant  phenomena  we  shall  find  the  seed  of 
that  system  of  superstitions  which  the  primitive  man  forms. 


10 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  IDEAS  OF  SLEEP  AND  DREAMS. 

§  68.  A  CONCEPTION  which  is  made  so  familiar  to  us  dur- 
ing education  that  we  mistake  it  for  an  original  and  neces- 
sary one,  is  the  conception  of  Mind,  as  an  internal  existence 
distinct  from  body.  The  hypothesis  of  a  sentient,  thinking 
entity,  dwelling  within  a  corporeal  framework,  is  now  so 
deeply  woven  into  our  beliefs  and  into  our  language,  that 
we  can  scarcely  imagine  it  to  be  one  which  the  primitive 
man  did  not  entertain,  and  could  not  entertain. 

Yet  if  we  ask  what  is  given  in  experience  to  the  untaught 
human  being,  we  find  that  there  is  nothing  to  tell  him  of  any 
such  existence.  From  moment  to  moment  he  sees  things 
around,  touches  them,  handles  them,  moves  them  hither  and 
thither.  He  knows  nothing  of  sensations  and  ideas — has  no 
words  for  them.  Still  less  has  he  any  such  highly-abstract 
word  or  conception  as  consciousness.  He  thinks  without 
observing  that  he  thinks;  and  therefore  never  asks  how  he 
thinks,  and  what  it  is  which  thinks.  His  senses  make  him 
conversant  only  with  objects  externally  existing,  and  with 
his  own  body;  and  he  transcends  his  senses  only  far  enough 
to  draw  concrete  inferences  respecting  the  actions  of  these 
objects.  An  invisible,  intangible  entity,  such  as  Mind  is 
supposed  to  be,  is  a  high  abstraction  unthinkable  by  him,  and 
inexpressible  by  his  vocabulary. 

This,  which  is  obvious  a  priori,  is  verified  a  posteriori 
The  savage  cannot  speak  of  internal  intuition  except  in 

134 


THE  IDEAS  OP  SLEEP   AND  DREAMS.  135 

terms  of  external  intuition.  We  ourselves,  indeed,  when 
saying  that  we  see  something  that  has  been  clearly  explained, 
or  grasp  an  argument  palpably  true,  still  express  mental  acts 
by  words  originally  used  to  express  bodily  acts.  And  this 
use  of  words  implying  vision  and  touch,  which  with  us  is 
metaphorical,  is,  with  the  savage,  not  distinguished  from 
literal.  He  symbolizes  his  mind  by  his  eye.  (&&Q  Principles 
of  Psychology,  §  404.) 

But  until  there  is  a  conception  of  Mind  as  an  internal 
principle  of  activity,  there  can  be  no  such  conception  of 
dreams  as  we  have.  To  interpret  the  sights  and  sayings  and 
doings  we  are  conscious  of  during  sleep,  as  activities  of  the 
thinking  entity  which  go  on  while  the  senses  are  closed, 
is  impossible  until  the  thinking  entity  is  postulated.  Hence 
arises  the  inquiry — What  explanation  is  given  of  dreams 
before  the  conception  of  Mind  exists. 

§  69.  Hunger  and  repletion,  both  very  common  with  the 
primitive  man,  excite  dreams  of  great  vividness.  Now,  after 
a  bootless  chase  and  a  long  fast,  he  lies  exhausted;  and, 
while  slumbering,  goes  through  a  successful  hunt — kills, 
skins,  and  cooks  his  prey,  and  suddenly  wakes  when  about 
to  taste  the  first  morsel.  To  suppose  him  saying  to  himself 
— "  It  was  all  a  dream,"  is  to  suppose  him  already  in  pos- 
session of  that  hypothesis  which  we  see  he  cannot  have.  He 
takes  the  facts  as  they  occur.  With  perfect  distinctness  he 
recalls  the  things  he  saw  and  the  actions  he  performed ;  and 
he  accepts  undoubtingly  the  testimony  of  memory.  True, 
he  all  at  once  finds  himself  lying  still.  He  does  not  under- 
stand how  the  change  took  place;  but,  as  we  have  lately 
seen,  the  surrounding  world  familiarizes  him  with  unac- 
countable appearances  and  disappearances,  and  why  should 
not  this  be  one?  If  at  another  time,  lying  gorged  with  food, 
the  disturbance  of  his  circulation  causes  nightmare — if,  try- 
ing to  escape  and  being  unable,  he  fancies  himself  in  the 
clutches  of  a  bear,  and  wakes  with  a  shriek;  why  should  he 


136  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

conclude  that  the  shriek  was  not  due  to  an  actual  danger? 
Though  his  squaw  is  there  to  tell  him  that  she  saw  no  bear, 
yet  she  heard  his  shriek ;  and  like  him  has  not  the  dimmest 
notion  that  a  mere  subjective  state  can  produce  such  an 
effect — has,  indeed,  no  terms  in  which  to  frame  such  a 
notion. 

The  belief  that  dreams  are  actual  experiences  is  con- 
firmed by  narrations  of  them  in  imperfect  language.  We 
forget  that  discriminations  easy  to  us,  are  impossible  to  those 
who  have  but  few  words,  all  concrete  in  their  meanings,  and 
only  rude  prepositional  forms  in  which  to  combine  these 
words.  When  we  read  that  in  the  language  of  so  advanced 
a  people  as  the  ancient  Peruvians,  the  word  huaca  meant 
"  idol,  temple,  sacred  place,  tomb,  hill,  figures  of  men  and 
animals,"  we  may  judge  how  indefinite  must  be  the  best 
statements  which  the  vocabularies  of  the  rudest  men  enable 
them  to  make.  When  we  read  of  an  existing  South  Ameri- 
can tribe,  that  the  proposition — "  I  am  an  Abipone,"  is  ex- 
pressible only  in  the  vague  way — "  I,  Abipone;  "  we  cannot 
but  infer  that  by  such  undeveloped  grammatical  structures, 
only  the  simplest  thoughts  can  be  rightly  conveyed.  When, 
further,  we  learn  that  among  the  lowest  men  inadequate 
words  indefinitely  combined  are  also  imperfectly  pro- 
nounced, as,  for  instance,  among  the  Akka,  whose  speech 
struck  Schweinfurth  by  its  inarticulateness,  we  recognize  a 
third  cause  of  confusion.  And  thus  prepared,  we  need  feel 
no  surprise  on  being  told  that  the  Zuni  Indians  require 
"  much  facial  contortion  and  bodily  gesticulation  to  make 
their  sentences  perfectly  intelligible ;  "  that  the  language  of 
the  Bushmen  needs  so  many  signs  to  eke  out  its  meaning, 
that  "  they  are  unintelligible  in  the  dark ;  "  and  that  the 
Arapahos  "  can  hardly  converse  with  one  another  in  the 
dark."  If,  now,  remembering  all  this,  we  ask  what 

must  happen  when  a  dream  is  narrated  by  a  savage,  we  shall 
see  that  even  supposing  he  suspects  some  distinction  between 
ideal  actions  and  real  actions,  he  cannot  express  it.  His 


THE  IDEAS  OP  SLEEP  AND  DREAMS.  137 

language  does  not  enable  him  to  say — "  I  dreamt  that  I  saw," 
instead  of — "  I  saw."  Hence  each  relates  his  dreams  as 
though  they  were  realities;  and  thus  strengthens  in  every 
other,  the  belief  that  his  own  dreams  are  realities. 

What  then  is  the  resulting  notion?  The  sleeper  on 
awaking  recalls  various  occurrences,  and  repeats  them  to 
others.  He  thinks  he  has  been  elsewhere ;  witnesses  say  he 
has  not;  and  their  testimony  is  verified  by  finding  himself 
where  he  was  when  he  went  to  sleep.  The  simple  course  is 
to  believe  both  that  he  has  remained  and  that  he  has  been 
away — that  he  has  two  individualities,  one  of  which  leaves 
the  other  and  presently  comes  back.  He,  too,  has  a  double 
existence,  like  many  other  things. 

§  70.  From  all  quarters  come  proofs  that  this  is  the  con- 
ception actually  formed  of  dreams  by  savages,  and  which 
survives  after  considerable  advances  in  civilization  have 
been  made.  Here  are  a  few  of  the  testimonies. 

Schoolcraft  tells  us  that  the  Xorth  American  Indians  in 
general,  think  "  there  are  duplicate  souls,  one  of  which  re- 
mains with  the  body,  while  the  other  is  free  to  depart  on 
excursions  during  sleep;  "  and,  according  to  Crantz,  the 
Greenlanders  hold  "  that  the  soul  can  forsake  the  body  dur- 
ing the  interval  of  sleep."  The  theory  in  ]STew  Zealand  is 
"  that  during  sleep  the  mind  left  the  body,  and  that  dreams 
are  the  objects  seen  during  its  wanderings;  "  and  in  Fiji, 
"  it  is  believed  that  the  spirit  of  a  man  who  still  lives  will 
leave  the  body  to  trouble  other  people  when  asleep."  Simi- 
larly in  Borneo.  It  is  the  conviction  of  the  Dyaks  that  the 
soul  during  sleep  goes  on  expeditions  of  its  own,  and  "  sees, 
hears,  and  talks."  Among  Hill-tribes  of  India,  such  as  the 
Karens,  the  same  doctrine  is  held :  their  statement  being  that 
"  in  sleep  it  [the  La,  spirit  or  ghost]  wanders  away  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth,  and  our  dreams  are  what  the  La  sees  and 
experiences  in  his  perambulations."  By  the  ancient  Peru- 
vians, too,  developed  as  was  the  social  state  they  had  reached, 


138  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

the  same  interpretation  was  put  upon  the  facts.  They  held 
that  "  the  soul  leaves  the  body  while  it  is  sleeping.  They 
asserted  that  the  soul  could  not  sleep,  and  that  the  things 
we  dream  are  what  the  soul  sees  in  the  world  while  the  body 
sleeps."  And  we  are  told  the  like  even  of  the  Jews:  "  Sleep 
is  looked  upon  as  a  kind  of  death,  when  the  soul  departs  from 
the  body,  but  is  restored  again  in  awaking." 

Occurring  rarely,  it  may  be,  somnambulism  serves,  when 
it  does  occur,  to  confirm  this  interpretation.  For  to  the  un- 
critical, a  sleep-walker  seems  to  be  exemplifying  that  activ- 
ity during  sleep,  which  the  primitive  conception  of  dreams 
implies.  Each  phase  of  somnambulism  furnishes  its  evi- 
dence. Frequently  the  sleeper  gets  up,  performs 
various  actions,  and  returns  to  rest  without  waking ;  and,  re- 
calling afterwards  these  actions,  is  told  by  witnesses  that  he 
actually  did  the  things  he  thought  he  had  been  doing.  What 
construction  must  be  put  on  such  an  experience  by  primi- 
tive men?  It  proves  to  the  somnambulist  that  he  may  lead 
an  active  life  during  his  sleep,  and  yet  find  himself  after- 
wards in  the  place  where  he  lay  down.  With  equal  con- 
clusiveness  it  proves  to  those  who  saw  him,  that  men  really 
go  away  during  their  sleep;  that  they  do  the  things  they 
dream  of  doing;  and  may  even  sometimes  be  visible.  True, 
a  careful  examination  of  the  facts  would  show  that  in  this 
case  the  man's  body  was  absent  from  its  place  of  rest.  But 
savages  do  not  carefully  examine  the  facts.  Again, 
in  cases  where  the  sleep-walker  does  not  recollect  the  things 
he  did,  there  is  still  the  testimony  of  others  to  show  him 
that  he  was  not  quiescent;  and  occasionally  there  is  more. 
When,  as  often  happens,  his  night-ramble  brings  him  against 
an  obstacle  and  the  collision  wakes  him,  he  has  a  demon- 
stration of  the  alleged  fact  that  he  goes  hither  and  thither 
during  sleep.  On  returning  to  his  sleeping-place  he  does 
not,  indeed,  find  a  second  self  there;  but  this  discovery,  ir- 
reconcilable with  the  accepted  notion,  simply  increases  the 
confusion  of  his  ideas  about  these  matters.  Unable  to  deny 


THE  IDEAS  OP  SLEEP  AND  DREAMS.  139 

the  evidence  that  he  wanders  when  asleep,  he  takes  his 
strange  experience  in  verification  of  the  current  belief,  with- 
out dwelling  on  the  inconsistency. 

When  we  consider  what  tradition,  with  its  exaggera- 
tions, is  likely  to  make  of  these  abnormal  phenomena,  now 
and  then  occurring,  we  shall  see  that  the  primitive  interpreta- 
tion of  dreams  must  receive  from  them  strong  support. 

§  71.  Along  with  this  belief  there  of  course  goes  the 
belief  that  persons  dreamt  of  were  really  met.  If  the  dream- 
er thinks  his  own  actions  real,  he  ascribes  reality  to  what- 
ever he  saw — place,  thing,  or  living  being.  Hence  a  group 
of  facts  similarly  prevalent. 

Morgan  states  that  the  Iroquois  think  dreams  real,  and 
obey  their  injunctions — do  what  they  are  told  by  those  they 
see  in  dreams;  and  of  the  Chippewas,  Keating  asserts  that 
they  fast  for  the  purpose  of  "  producing  dreams,  which 
they  value  above  all  things."  The  Malagasy  "  have  a  re- 
ligious regard  to  dreams,  and  think  that  the  good  dam  on 
,  .  .  comes,  and  tells  them  in  their  dreams  when  they  ought 
to  do  a  thing,  or  to  warn  them  of  some  danger."  The  Sand- 
wich Islanders  say  the  departed  member  of  a  family  "  ap- 
pears to  the  survivors  sometimes  in  a  dream,  and  watches 
over  their  destinies;  "  and  the  Tahitians  have  like  beliefs. 
In  Africa  it  is  the  same.  The  Congo  people  hold  that  what 
they  see  and  hear  in  "  dreams  come  to  them  from  spirits;  " 
and  among  East  Africans,  the  "Wanika  believe  that  the 
spirits  of  the  dead  appear  to  the  living  in  dreams.  The  Kaf- 
firs, too,  "  seem  to  ascribe  dreams  in  general  to  the  spirits." 
Abundant  evidence  is  furnished  by  Bishop  Callaway  con- 
cerning the  Zulus,  whose  ideas  he  has  written  down  from 
their  own  mouths.  Intelligent  as  these  people  are,  some- 
what advanced  in  social  state,  and  having  language  enabling 
them  to  distinguish  between  dream-perceptions  and  ordinary 
perceptions,  we  nevertheless  find  among  them  (joined  with 
an  occasional  scepticism)  a  prevalent  belief  that  the  persons 


14:0  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

who  appear  in  dreams  are  real.  Out  of  many  illustrations, 
here  is  one  furnished  by  a  man  who  complains  that  he  is 
plagued  by  the  spirit  of  his  brother.  He  tells  his  neigh- 
bours : — 

"I  have  seen  my  brother."  They  ask  what  he  said.  He  says,  "I 
dreamed  that  he  was  beating  me,  and  saying,  '  How  is  it  that  you  do 
no  longer  know  that  I  am  ?'  I  answered  him,  saying,  'When  I  do 
know  you,  what  can  I  do  that  you  may  see  1  know  you  ?  I  know 
that  you  are  my  brother.'  He  answered  me  as  soon  as  I  said  this,  and 
asked,  '  When  you  sacrifice  a  bullock,  why  do  you  not  call  upon  me  ? ' 
I  replied,  '  I  do  call  on  you,  and  laud  you  by  your  laud-giving  names. 
Just  tell  me  the  bullock  which  I  have  killed,  without  calling  on  you. 
For  I  killed  an  ox,  I  called  on  you;  I  killed  a  barren  cow,  I  called  on 
you.'  He  answered,  saying,  'I  wish  for  meat.'  I  refused  him,  say- 
ing, '  No,  my  brother,  I  have  no  bullock;  do  you  see  any  in  the  catlle- 
pen  ? '  He  replied,  '  Though  there  be  but  one,  I  demand  it.'  When 
I  awoke,  I  hud  a  pain  in  my  side." 

Though  this  conception  of  a  dead  brother  as  a  living 
being  who  demands  meat,  and  inflicts  pain  for  non-compli- 
ance, is  so  remote  from  our  own  conceptions  as  to  seem 
scarcely  possible;  yet  we  shall  see  its  possibility  on  remem- 
bering how  little  it  differs  from  the  conceptions  of  early 
civilized  races.  At  the  opening  of  the  second  book  of  the 
Iliad,  we  find  the  dream  sent  by  Zeus  to  mislead  the  Greeks, 
described  as  a  real  person  receiving  from  Zeus's  directions 
what  he  is  to  say  to  the  sleeping  Agamemnon.  In  like  man- 
ner, the  soul  of  Patroclus  appeared  to  Achilles  when  asleep 
"  in  all  things  like  himself,"  saying  "  bury  me  soon  that  I 
may  pass  the  gates  of  Hades,"  and,  when  grasped  at,  "  like 
smoke  vanished  with  a  shriek:  "  the  appearance  being  ac- 
cepted by  Achilles  as  a  reality,  and  its  injunction  as  impera- 
tive. Hebrew  writings  show  us  the  like.  When  we  read 
that  "  God  came  to  Abimelech  in  a  dream  by  night,"  that 
"  the  Lord  came,  and  stood,  and  called  as  at  other  times, 
Samuel,  Samuel;  "  we  see  an  equally  unhesitating  belief 
in  an  equally  objective  reality.  During  civilization  this  faith 
has  been  but  slowly  losing  ground,  and  even  still  survives  j 


THE  IDEAS  OP  SLEEP  AND  DREAMS. 

as  is  proved  by  the  stories  occasionally  told  of  people  who 
when  just  dead  appeared  to  distant  relations,  and  as  is  proved 
by  the  superstitions  of  the  "  spiritualists." 

Indeed,  after  recalling  these  last,  we  have  but  to  imagine 
ourselves  de-civilized — we  have  but  to  suppose  faculty  de- 
creased, knowledge  lost,  language  vague,  and  scepticism 
absent,  to  understand  how  inevitably  the  primitive  man  con- 
ceives as  real,  the  dream-personages  we  know  to  be  ideal. 

§  72.  A  reflex  action  on  other  beliefs  is  exercised  by 
these  beliefs  concerning  dreams.  Besides  fostering  a  system 
of  erroneous  ideas,  this  fundamental  misconception  dis- 
credits the  true  ideas  which  accumulated  experiences  of 
things  are  ever  tending  to  establish. 

For  while  the  events  dreamed  are  accepted  as  events  that 
have  really  occurred — while  the  order  of  phenomena  they 
exhibit  is  supposed  to  be  an  actual  order;  what  must  be 
thought  about  the  order  of  phenomena  observed  at  other 
times?  Such  uniformities  in  it  as  daily  repetition  makes 
conspicuous,  cannot  produce  that  sense  of  certainty  they 
might  produce  if  taken  by  themselves;  for  in  dreams  these 
uniformities  are  not  maintained.  Though  trees  and  stones 
seen  when  awake,  do  not  give  place  to  other  things  which 
panoramically  change,  yet,  when  the  eyes  are  closed  at  night 
they  do.  While  looking  at  him  in  broad  daylight,  a  man 
does  not  transform  himself;  but  during  slumber,  something 
just  now  recognized  as  a  companion,  turns  into  a  furious 
beast,  threatening  destruction ;  or  what  was  a  moment  since 
a  pleasant  lake,  has  become  a  swarm  of  crocodiles.  Though 
when  awake,  the  ability  to  leave  the  earth's  surface  is 
limited  to  a  leap  of  a  few  feet ;  yet,  when  asleep,  there  some- 
times comes  a  consciousness  of  flying  with  ease  over  vast 
regions.  Thus,  the  experiences  in  dreams  habit- 

ually contradict  the  experiences  received  during  the  day; 
and  tend  to  cancel  the  conclusions  drawn  from  day-experi- 
ences. Or  rather,  they  tend  to  confirm  the  erroneous  conclu- 


142  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

sions  suggested  by  day-experiences,  instead  of  the  correct 
conclusions.  For  do  not  these  sudden  appearances  and  dis- 
appearances in  dreams,  prove,  like  many  facts  observed  when 
awake,  that  things  can  pass  unaccountably  from  visible  to 
invisible  states,  and  vice  versal  And  do  not  these  dream- 
transformations  thoroughly  accord  with  those  other  trans- 
formations, some  real  and  some  apparent,  which  make  the 
primitive  man  believe  in  an  unlimited  possibility  of  meta- 
morphosis? When  that  which  in  his  dream  he  picked  up 
as  a  stone,  becomes  alive,  does  not  the  change  harmonize 
with  his  discoveries  of  fossils  having  the  hardness  of  stones 
and  the  shapes  of  living  things?  And  is  not  the  sudden 
exchange  of  a  tiger-shape  for  the  shape  of  a  man,  which 
his  dream  shows  him,  akin  to  the  insect  metamorphoses 
he  has  noticed,  and  akin  to  the  seeming  transformations  of 
leaves  into  walking  creatures? 

Clearly,  then,  the  acceptance  of  dream-activities  as  real 
activities,  strengthens  allied  misconceptions  otherwise  gen- 
erated. It  strengthens  them  both  negatively  and  positively. 
It  discredits  those  waking  experiences  from  which  right 
beliefs  are  to  be  drawn ;  and  it  yields  support  to  those  wak- 
ing experiences  which  suggest  wrong  beliefs. 

§  73.  That  the  primitive  man's  conception  of  dreaming 
is  natural,  will  now  be  obvious.  As  said  at  the  outset,  his 
notions  seem  strange  because,  in  thinking  about  them,  we 
carry  with  us  the  theory  of  Mind  which  civilization  has 
slowly  established.  Mind,  however,  as  we  conceive  it,  is 
unknown  to  the  savage;  being  neither  diclosed  by  the 
senses,  nor  directly  revealed  as  an  internal  entity.  The  fact 
that  even  now  some  metaphysicians  hold  that  nothing  beyond 
impressions  and  ideas  can  be  known  to  exist,  while  others 
hold  that  impressions  and  ideas  imply  a  something  of  which 
they  are  states,  proves  that  Mind,  as  conceived  by  us,  is  not 
an  intuition  but  an  implication;  and  therefore  cannot  be 
conceived  until  reasoning  has  made  some  progress. 


THE  IDEAS  OF  SLEEP  AND  DREAMS.  143 

Like  every  child,  the  primitive  man  passes  through  a 
phase  of  intelligence  during  which  there  has  not  yet  arisen 
the  power  of  introspection  implied  by  saying — "  I  think — 
I  have  ideas."  The  thoughts  that  accompany  sensations 
and  the  perceptions  framed  of  them,  are  so  unobtrusive,  and 
pass  so  rapidly,  that  they  are  not  noticed:  to  notice  them 
implies  a  self-criticism  impossible  at  the  outset.  But  these 
faint  states  of  consciousness  which,  during  the  day,  are  ob- 
scured by  the  vivid  states,  become  obtrusive  at  night,  when 
the  eyes  are  shut  and  the  other  senses  dulled.  Then  the  sub- 
jective activities  clearly  reveal  themselves,  as  the  stars  re- 
veal themselves  when  the  sun  is  absent.  That  is  to  say, 
dream-experiences  necessarily  precede  the  conception  of  a 
mental  self;  and  are  the  experiences  out  of  which  the  con- 
ception of  a  mental  self  eventually  grows.  Mark  the  order 
of  dependence : — The  current  interpretation  of  dreams  im- 
plies the  hypothesis  of  mind  as  a  distinct  entity;  the  hypothe- 
sis of  mind  as  a  distinct  entity  cannot  exist  before  the  ex- 
periences suggesting  it ;  the  experiences  suggesting  it  are  the 
dream-experiences,  which  seem  to  imply  two  entities;  and 
originally  the  supposition  is  that  the  second  entity  differs 
from  the  first  simply  in  being  absent  and  active  at  night 
while  the  other  is  at  rest.  Only  as  this  assumed  duplicate 
becomes  gradually  modified  by  the  dropping  of  physical 
characters  irreconcilable  with  the  facts,  does  the  hypothesis 
of  a  mental  self,  as  we  understand  it,  become  established. 

Here,  then,  is  the  germinal  principle  which  sets  up  such 
organization  as  the  primitive  man's  random  observations 
of  things  can  assume.  This  belief  in  another  self  belonging 
to  him,  harmonizes  with  all  those  illustrations  of  duality 
furnished  by  things  around;  and  equally  harmonizes  with 
those  multitudinous  cases  in  which  things  pass  from  visible 
to  invisible  states  and  back  again.  Nay  more.  Comparison 
shows  him  a  kinship  between  his  own  double  and  the 
doubles  of  other  objects.  For  have  not  these  objects  their 
shadows?  Has  not  he  too  his  shadow ?  Does  not  his  shadow 


144  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

become  invisible  at  night?  Is  it  not  obvious,  then,  that  this 
shadow  which  in  the  day  accompanies  his  body  is  that  other 
self  which  at  night  wanders  away  and  has  adventures? 
Clearly,  the  Greenlanders  who,  as  we  have  seen,  believe 
this,  have  some  justification  for  the  belief. 


CHAPTEE  XL 

THE     IDEAS     OF     SWOON,     APOPLEXY,     CATALEPSY,     ECSTASY, 
AND    OTHER    FOKMS    OF    INSENSIBILITY. 

§  74.  THE  quiescence  of  ordinary  sleep  is  daily  seen  by 
the  savage  to  be  quickly  exchanged  for  activity  when  the 
slumberer  is  disturbed.  Differences  between  the  amounts 
of  the  required  disturbances  are,  indeed,  observable.  Now 
the  slightest  sound  suffices;  and  now  it  needs  a  shout,  or 
rough  handling,  or  pinching.  Still,  his  experience  shows 
that  when  a  man's  body  lies  motionless  and  insensible,  a 
mere  calling  of  the  name  usually,  causes  re-animation. 

Occasionally,  however,  something  different  happens. 
Here  is  a  companion  exhibiting  signs  of  extreme  pain,  who, 
all  at  once,  sinks  down  into  an  inert  state;  and  at  another 
time,  a  feeble  person  greatly  terrified  or  even  overjoyed, 
undergoes  a  like  change.  In  those  who  behave  thus,  the 
ordinary  sensibility  cannot  be  forthwith  re-established. 
Though  the  Fijian,  in  such  case,  calls  the  patient  by  his 
name,  and  is  led  by  the  ultimate  revival  to  believe  that  his 
other  self  may  be  brought  back  by  calling,  yet  there  is  forced 
on  him  the  fact  that  this  absence  of  the  other  self  is  unlike 
its  usual  absences.  Evidently,  the  occurrence  of  this  spe- 
cial insensibility,  commonly  lasting  for  a  minute  or  two 
but  sometimes  for  hours,  confirms  the  belief  in  a  duplicate 
that  wanders  away  from  the  body  and  returns  to  it :  the  de- 
sertion of  the  body  being  now  more  determined  than  usual, 
and  being  followed  by  silence  as  to  what  has  been  done  or 
seen  in  the  interval. 

145 


146  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

Our  familiar  speech  bears  witness  to  this  primitive  inter- 
pretation of  syncope.  We  say  of  one  who  revives  from  a 
fainting  fit,  that  she  is  "  coming  back  to  herself  " — "  return- 
ing to  herself."  Though  we  no  longer  explain  insensibility 
as  due  to  an  absence  of  the  sentient  entity  from  the  body, 
yet  our  phrases  bear  witness  to  a  time  when  insensibility  was 
so  explained. 

§  75.  Apoplexy  "  is  liable  to  be  confounded  with  syn- 
cope or  fainting,  and  with  natural  sleep."  The  instructed 
medical  man  thus  describes  it.  Judge  then  how  little  it  can 
be  discriminated  by  savages. 

Suddenly  falling,  the  apoplectic  patient  betrays  a  "  total 
loss  of  consciousness,  of  feeling,  and  of  voluntary  move- 
ment." The  breathing  is  sometimes  natural,  as  in  quiet 
sleep;  and  sometimes  the  patient  lies  "  snoring  loudly  as  in 
deep  sleep."  In  either  case,  however,  it  presently  turns  out 
that  the  sleeper  cannot  be  "  brought  back  to  himself  "  as 
usual:  shouts  and  shakes  have  no  effect. 

What  must  the  savage  think  about  a  fellow-savage  in 
this  state ;  which  continues  perhaps  for  a  few  hours,  but  oc- 
casionally for  several  days?  Clearly  the  belief  in  duality 
is  strengthened.  The  second  self  has  gone  away  for  a  time 
beyond  recall ;  and  when  it  eventually  comes  back,  nothing 
can  be  learnt  about  its  experiences  while  absent. 

If,  as  commonly  happens,  after  months  or  years  there 
comes  a  like  fall,  a  like  prolonged  insensibility,  and  a  like 
return,  there  is  again  a  silence  about  what  has  been  done. 
And  then,  on  a  third  occasion,  the  absence  is  longer  than 
before — the  relatives  wait  and  wait,  and  there  is  no  coming 
back:  the  coming  back  seems  postponed  indefinitely. 

§  76.  Similar  in  its  sudden  onset,  but  otherwise  dissimi- 
lar, is  the  nervous  seizure  called  catalepsy;  which  also  lasts 
sometimes  several  hours  and  sometimes  several  days.  In- 
stantaneous loss  of  consciousness  is  followed  by  a  state  in 


THE  IDEAS  OF  SWOON,  APOPLEXY,  ETC.  147 

which  the  patient  "  presents  the  air  of  a  statue  rather  than 
that  of  an  animated  being."  The  limbs  placed  in  this  or  that 
position,  remain  fixed:  the  agent  which  controlled  them 
seems  absent;  and  the  body  is  passive  in  the  hands  of  those 
around. 

Resumption  of  the  ordinary  state  is  as  sudden  as  was 
cessation  of  it.  And,  as  before,  "  there  is  no  recollection  of 
anything  which  occurred  during  the  fit."  That  is  to  say, 
in  primitive  terms,  the  wandering  other-self  will  give  no 
account  of  its  adventures. 

That  this  conception,  carrying  out  their  conception  of 
dreams,  is  entertained  by  savages  we  have  direct  testimony. 
Concerning  the  journeyings  of  souls,  the  Chippewas  say  that 
some  "  are  the  souls  of  persons  in  a  lethargy  or  trance. 
Being  refused  a  passage  [to  the  other  world],  these  souls 
return  to  their  bodies  and  re-animate  them."  And  that  a 
kindred  conception  has  been  general,  is  inferable  from  the 
fact  named  by  Mr.  Fiske  in  his  Myths  and  Myth-makers 
that "  in  the  Middle  Ages  the  phenomena  of  trance  and  cata- 
lepsy were  cited  in  proof  of  the  theory  that  the  soul  can  leave 
the  body  and  afterwards  return  to  it." 

§  77.  Another,  but  allied,  form  of  insensibility  yields 
evidence  similarly  interpretable.  I  refer  to  ecstasy.  While, 
by  making  no  responses  to  ordinary  stimuli,  the  ecstatic 
subject  shows  that  he  is  "  not  himself,"  he  seems  to  have 
vivid  perceptions  of  things  elsewhere. 

Sometimes  "  induced  by  deep  and  long-sustained  con- 
templation," ecstasy  is  characterized  by  "  a  high  degree  of 
mental  excitement,  co-existing  with  a  state  of  unconscious- 
ness of  all  surrounding  things."  While  the  muscles  are 
"  rigid,  the  body  erect  and  inflexible,"  there  is  "  a  total  sus- 
pension of  sensibility  and  voluntary  motion."  During  this 
state,  "  visions  of  an  extraordinary  nature  occasionally 
occur,"  and  "  can  be  minutely  detailed  afterwards." 

Witnessing  such  phenomena  is  evidently  calculated  to 


148  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

strengthen  the  primitive  belief  that  each  man  is  double,  and 
that  one  part  can  leave  the  other;  and  that  it  does  strengthen 
them  we  have  facts  to  show.  Bp.  Callaway,  describing  Zulu 
ideas,  says  a  man  in  ecstasy  is  believed  to  see  "  things  which 
he  would  not  see  if  he  were  not  in  a  state  of  ecstasy:  "  a 
statement  which,  joined  with  their  interpretation  of  dreams, 
implies  that  the  visions  of  his  ecstatic  state  were  regarded 
by  the  Zulus  as  experiences  of  his  wandering  other-self. 

§  78.  I  need  not  detail  the  phases  of  coma,  having  the 
common  trait  of  an  unconsciousness  more  or  less  unlike  that 
of  sleep,  and  all  of  them  explicable  in  the  same  way.  But 
there  is  one  other  kind  of  insensibility,  highly  significant 
in  its  implications, which  remains  to  be  noticed — the  insensi- 
bility which  direct  injury  produces.  This  has  two  varieties : 
the  one  following  loss  of  blood;  the  other  following  con- 
cussion. 

When  treating  of  the  familiar  insensibility  known  as 
swoon,  I  purposely  refrained  from  including  loss  of  blood 
among  the  causes  named :  this  origin  not  being  visibly  allied 
to  its  other  origins.  Leading,  as  he  does,  a  life  of  violence, 
the  primitive  man  often  witnesses  fainting  from  ansemia. 
Not  that  he  connects  cause  and  effect  in  this  definite  way. 
What  he  sees  is,  that  after  a  serious  wound  comes  a  sudden 
collapse,  with  closed  eyes,  immobility,  speechlessness.  For 
a  while  there  is  no  response  to  a  shake  or  a  call.  Presently 
his  wounded  fellow-warrior  "  returns  to  himself  "  — opens 
his  eyes  and  speaks.  Again  the  blood  gushes  from  his 
wound,  and  after  a  time  he  is  again  absent.  Perhaps  there 
is  a  revival  and  no  subsequent  unconsciousness;  or,  perhaps, 
there  comes  a  third  quietude —  a  quietude  so  prolonged  that 
hope  of  immediate  return  is  given  up. 

Sometimes  the  insensibility  has  a  partially-different  ante- 
cedent. In  battle,  a  blow  from  a  waddy  lays  low  a  com- 
panion, or  a  club  brought  down  with  force  on  the  head  of 
an  enemy  reduces  him  to  a  motionless  mass.  The  one  or  the 


THE  IDEAS  OF  SWOON,  APOPLEXY,  ETC.  149 

other  may  be  only  stunned ;  and  presently  there  is  a  "  re- 
animation."  Or  the  stroke  may  have  been  violent  enough 
to  cause  concussion  of  the  brain,  or  fracture  of  the  skull  and 
consequent  pressure  on  the  brain;  whence  may  result  pro- 
longed insensibility,  followed  by  incoherent  speech  and 
feeble  motion;  after  which  may  come  a  second  lapse  into 
unconsciousness — perhaps  ending  after  another  interval,  or 
perhaps  indefinitely  continued. 

§  79.  Joined  with  the  evidence  which  sleep  and  dreams 
furnish,  these  evidences  yielded  by  abnormal  states  of  in- 
sensibility, originate  a  further  group  of  notions  concerning 
temporary  absences  of  the  other-self. 

A  swoon,  explained  as  above,  is  not  unf  requently  pre- 
ceded by  feelings  of  weakness  in  the  patient  -and  signs  of 
it  to  the  spectators.  These  rouse  in  both  a  suspicion  that 
the  other-self  is  about  to  desert ;  and  there  comes  anxiety  to 
prevent  its  desertion.  Revival  of  a  fainting  person  has  often 
taken  place  while  he  was  being  called  to.  Hence  the  ques- 
tion— will  not  calling  bring  back  the  other-self  when  it  is 
going  away?  Some  savages  say  yes.  The  Fijian  may  some- 
times be  heard  to  bawl  out  lustily  to  his  own  soul  to  return 
to  him.  Among  the  Karens,  a  man  is  constantly  in  fear  lest 
his  other-self  should  leave  him:  sickness  or  languor  being 
regarded  as  signs  of  its  absence;  and  offerings  and  prayers 
being  made  to  bring  it  back.  Especially  odd  is  the  behaviour 
which  this  belief  causes  at  a  funeral. 

"On  returning  from  the  grave,  each  person  provides  himself  with 
three  little  hooks  made  of  branches  of  trees,  and  calling  his  spirit  to 
follow  him,  at  short  intervals,  as  he  returns,  he  makes  a  motion  as  if 
hooking  it,  and  then  thrusts  the  hook  into  the  ground.  This  is  done 
to  prevent  the  spirit  of  the  living  from  staying  behind  with  the  spirit 
of  the  dead." 

Similarly  with  the  graver  forms  of  insensibility.  Mostly 
occurring,  as  apoplexy,  trance,  and  ecstasy  do,  to  persons 
otherwise  unwell,  these  prolonged  absences  of  the  other- 
11 


150  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

self  become  mentally  associated  with  its  impending  absences 
at  other  times;  and  hence  an  interpretation  of  ill-health  or 
sickness.  Among  some  Northern  Asiatics  disease  is  ascribed 
to  the  soul's  departure.  By  the  Algonquins,  a  sick  man  is 
regarded  as  a  man  whose  "  shadow  "  is  "  unsettled,  or  de- 
tached from  his  body."  And  in  some  cases  the  Karens  sup- 
pose one  who  is  taken  ill  and  dying  to  be  one  who  has  had 
his  soul  transferred  to  another  by  witchcraft. 

Various  beliefs  naturally  arise  respecting  the  doings  of 
the  other-self  during  these  long  desertions.  Among  the 
Dyaks,  "  elders  and  priestesses  often  assert  that  in  their 
dreams  they  have  visited  the  mansion  of  Tapa  [the  Supreme 
God],  and  seen  the  Creator  dwelling  in  a  house  like  that  of 
a  Malay,  the  interior  of  which  was  adorned  with  guns  and 
gongs  and  jars  innumerable,  Himself  being  clothed  like  a 
Dyak."  And  Hind  speaks  of  a  Cree  Indian  who  asserted 
that  he  had  once  been  dead  and  visited  the  spirit- world :  his 
alleged  visit  being  probably,  like  the  alleged  visits  of  the 
Dyaks,  a  vision  during  abnormal  insensibility.  For,  habit- 
ually, a  journey  to  the  world  of  spirits  is  assigned  as  the 
cause  for  one  of  these  long  absences  of  the  other-self.  In- 
stances are  given  by  Mr.  Tylor  of  this  explanation  among 
the  Australians,  the  Khonds,  the  Greenlanders,  the  Tatars; 
and  he  names  Scandinavian  and  Greek  legends  implying 
the  same  notion. 

I  may  add,  as  one  of  the  strangest  of  these  derivative 
beliefs,  that  of  certain  Greenlanders,  who  think  that  the 
soul  can  "  go  astray  out  of  the  body  for  a  considerable  time. 
Some  even  pretend,  that  when  going  on  a  long  journey  they 
can  leave  their  souls  at  home,  and  yet  remain  sound  and 
healthy." 

Thus  what  have  become  with  us  figurative  expressions, 
remain  with  men  in  lower  states  literal  descriptions.  The 
term  applied  by  Southern  Australians  to  one  who  is  uncon- 
scious, means  "  without  soul;  "  and  we  say  that  such  an  one 
is  "  inanimate."  Similarly,  though  our  thoughts  respecting 


THE  IDEAS  OF  SWOON,  APOPLEXY,  ETC.  151 

a  debilitated  person  are  no  longer  like  those  of  the  savage, 
yet  the  words  we  use  to  convey  them  have  the  same  original 
implication:  we  speak  of  him  as  having  "  lost  his  spirit." 

§  80.  The  beliefs  just  instanced,  like  those  instanced 
in  foregoing  chapters,  carry  us  somewhat  beyond  the  mark. 
Evolution  has  given  to  the  superstitions  we  now  meet  with, 
more  specific  characters  than  had  the  initial  ideas  out  of 
which  they  grew.  I  must  therefore,  as  before,  ask  the  reader 
to  ignore  the  specialities  of  these  interpretations,  and  to 
recognize  only  the  trait  common  to  them.  The  fact  to  be 
observed  is  that  the  abnormal  insensibilities  now  and  then 
witnessed,  are  inevitably  interpreted  in  the  same  general 
way  as  the  normal  insensibility  daily  witnessed:  the  two 
interpretations  supporting  one  another. 

The  primitive  man  sees  various  durations  of  the  insensi- 
ble state  and  various  degrees  of  the  insensibility.  There  is 
the  doze  in  which  the  dropping  of  the  head  on  the  breast  is 
followed  by  instant  waking;  there  is  the  ordinary  sleep, 
ending  in  a  few  minutes  or  continuing  many  hours,  and 
varying  in  profundity  from  a  state  broken  by  a  slight  sound 
to  a  state  not  broken  without  shouts  and  shakes;  there  is 
lethargy  in  which  slumber  is  still  longer,  and  the  waking 
short  and  imperfect;  there  is  swoon,  perhaps  lasting  a  few 
seconds  or  perhaps  lasting  hours,  from  which  the  patient 
now  seems  brought  back  to  himself  by  repeated  calls,  and 
now  obstinately  stays  away;  and  there  are  apoplexy,  cata- 
lepsy, ecstasy,  etc.,  similar  in  respect  of  the  long  persistence 
of  insensibility,  though  dissimilar  in  respect  of  the  accounts 
the  patient  gives  on  returning  to  himself.  Further,  these 
several  comatose  states  differ  as  ending,  sometimes  in  revival, 
and  sometimes  in  a  quiescence  which  becomes  complete  and 
indefinitely  continued:  the  other-self  remaining  so  long 
away  that  the  body  goes  cold. 

Most  significant  of  all,  however,  are  the  insensibilities 
which  follow  wounds  and  blows.  Though  for  other  losses  of 


152  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

consciousness  the  savage  saw  no  antecedents,  yet  for  each 
of  these  the  obvious  antecedent  was  the  act  of  an  enemy. 
And  this  act  of  an  enemy  produced  variable  results.  Now 
the  injured  man  shortly  "  returned  to  himself,"  and  did  not 
go  away  again;  and  now,  returning  to  himself  only  after  a 
long  absence,  he  presently  deserted  his  body  for  an  indefinite 
time.  Lastly,  instead  of  these  temporary  returns  followed 
by  final  absence,  there  sometimes  occurred  cases  in  which 
a  violent  blow  caused  continuous  absence  from  the  first:  the 
other-self  never  came  back  at  all. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    IDEAS    OF    DEATH    AND    RESURRECTION. 

§  81.  WE  assume  without  hesitation  that  death  is  easily 
distinguished  from  life;  and  we  assume  without  hesitation 
that  the  natural  ending  of  life  by  death,  must  have  been 
always  known  as  it  is  now  known.  Each  of  the  assumptions 
thus  undoubtingly  made,  is  erroneous. 

"  Nothing  is  more  certain  than  death;  nothing  is  at  times  more 
uncertain  than  its  reality:  and  numerous  instances  are  recorded  of 
persons  prematurely  buried,  or  actually  at  the  verge  of  the  grave,  be- 
fore it  was  discovered  that  life  still  remained ;  and  even  of  some  who 
were  resuscitated  by  the  knife  of  the  anatomist." 

This  passage,  which  I  extract  from  Forbes  and  Tweedie's 
Cyclopaedia  of  Practical  Medicine,  is  followed  by  an  exam- 
ination of  the  tests  commonly  trusted:  showing  that  they 
are  all  fallacious.  If,  then,  having  the  accumulated  experi- 
ences bequeathed  by  civilization,  joined  to  that  acquaint- 
ance with  natural  death  gained  through  direct  observation 
in  every  family,  we  cannot  be  sure  whether  revival  will  or 
will  not  take  place;  what  judgments  are  to  be  expected 
from  the  primitive  man,  who,  lacking  all  this  recorded 
knowledge,  lacks  also  our  many  opportunities  of  seeing  nat- 
ural death?  Until  facts  have  proved  it,  he  cannot  know 
that  this  permanent  quiescence  is  the  necessary  termination 
to  the  state  of  activity;  and  his  wandering,  predatory  life 
keeps  out  of  view  most  of  the  evidence  which  establishes 
this  truth. 

153 


154:  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

So  circumstanced,  then,  what  ideas  does  the  primitive 
man  form  of  death?  Let  us  observe  the  course  of  his  thought, 
and  the  resulting  conduct. 

§  82.  He  witnesses  insensibilities  various  in  their  lengths 
and  various  in  their  degrees.  After  the  immense  majority 
of  them  there  come  re-animations — daily  after  sleep,  fre- 
quently after  swoon,  occasionally  after  coma,  now  and  then 
after  wounds  or  blows.  What  about  this  other  form  of  in- 
sensibility?— will  not  re-animation  follow  this  also? 

The  inference  that  it  will,  is  strengthened  by  the  occa- 
sional experience  that  revival  occurs  unexpectedly.  One  in 
course  of  being  buried,  or  one  about  to  be  burned,  suddenly 
comes  back  to  himself.  The  savage  does  not  take  this  for 
proof  that  the  man  supposed  to  be  dead  was  not  dead ;  but  it 
helps  to  convince  him  that  the  insensibility  of  death  is  like 
all  the  other  insensibilities — only  temporary.  Even  were 
he  critical,  instead  of  being  incapable  of  criticism,  the  facts 
would  go  far  to  justify  his  belief  that  in  these  cases  re-ani- 
mation has  been  only  longer  postponed. 

That  this  confusion,  naturally  to  be  inferred,  actually 
exists,  we  have  proof.  Arbousset  and  Daumas  quote  the 
proverb  of  the  Bushmen — "  Death  is  only  a  sleep."  Con- 
cerning the  Tasmanians,  Bonwick  writes : — "  When  one 
was  asked  the  reason  of  the  spear  being  stuck  in  the  tomb, 
he  replied  quietly,  l  To  fight  with  when  he  sleep.' '  Even 
so  superior  a  race  as  the  Dyaks  have  great  difficulty  in  dis- 
tinguishing sleep  from  death.  When  a  Toda  dies,  the  peo- 
ple "  entertain  a  lingering  hope  that  till  putrefaction  com- 
mences, reanimation  may  possibly  take  place."  More  clearly 
still  is  this  notion  of  revival  implied  in  the  reasons  given 
for  their  practices  by  two  tribes — one  in  the  Old  World  and 
one  in  the  New — who  both  unite  great  brutality  with  great 
stupidity.  The  corpse  of  a  Damara,  having  been  sewn-up 
sitting  "  in  an  old  ox-hide,"  is  buried  in  a  hole,  and  "  the 
spectators  jump  backwards  and  forwards  over  the  grave  to 


THE  IDEAS  OP  DEATH  AND  RESURRECTION.       155 

keep  the  deceased  from  rising  out  of  it."  And  among  the 
Tupis,  "  the  corpse  had  all  its  limbs  tied  fast,  that  the  dead 
man  might  not  be  able  to  get  up,  and  infest  his  friends  with 
his  visits." 

Apart  from  avowed  convictions  and  assigned  reasons, 
abundant  proofs  are  furnished  by  the  behaviour;  as  in  the 
instances  last  given.  Let  us  observe  the  various  acts  prompt- 
ed by  the  belief  that  the  dead  return  to  life. 

§  83.  First  come  attempts  to  revive  the  corpse — to  bring 
back  the  other-self.  These  are  sometimes  very  strenuous, 
and  very  horrible.  Alexander  says  of  the  Arawaks,  that  a 
man  who  had  lost  two  brothers  "  cut  thorny  twigs,  and  beat 
the  bodies  all  over,  uttering  at  the  same  time  '  Heia !  Heia ! ' 
as  if  he  felt  the  pain  of  the  flagellation.  .  .  .  Seeing  that 
it  was  impossible  to  reanimate  the  lifeless  clay,  he  opened 
their  eyes,  and  beat  the  thorns  into  the  eyeballs,  and  all  over 
the  face."  Similarly,  the  Hottentots  reproach  and  ill-use  the 
dying,  and  those  just  dead,  for  going  away. 

This  introduces  us  to  the  widely-prevalent  practice  of 
talking  to  the  corpse:  primarily  with  the  view  of  inducing 
the  wandering  duplicate  to  return,  but  otherwise  for  pur- 
poses of  propitiation.  The  Fijian  thinks  that  calling  some- 
times brings  back  the  other-self  at  death;  as  does,  too,  the 
Banks'  Islander,  by  whom  "  the  name  of  the  deceased  is 
loudly  called  with  the  notion  that  the  soul  may  hear  and 
come  back;  "  and  we  read  that  the  Hos  even  call  back  the 
spirit  of  a  corpse  which  has  been  burnt.  The  Fantees  address 
the  corpse  "  sometimes  in  accents  of  reproach  for  leaving 
them ;  at  others  beseeching  his  spirit  to  watch  over  and  pro- 
tect them  from  evil."  During  their  lamentations,  the  Caribs 
asked  "  the  deceased  to  declare  the  cause  of  his  departure 
from  the  world."  In  Samoa  "  the  friends  of  the  deceased 
.  .  .  went  with  a  present  to  the  priest,  and  begged  him  to 
get  the  dead  man  to  speak  and  confess  the  sins  which  caused 
his  death;  "  in  Loango,  a  dead  man's  relatives  question  him 


156  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

for  two  or  three  hours  why  he  died;  and  on  the  Gold  Coast, 
"  the  dead  person  is  himself  interrogated  "  as  to  the  cause 
of  his  death.  Even  by  the  Hebrews  "  it  was  believed  that 
a  dead  man  could  hear  anything."  So,  too,  when  depositing 
food,  etc.  Among  the  Todas,  the  sacrincer  addressed  the 
deceased,  and,  naming  the  cow  killed,  "  said  they  had  sent 
her  to  accompany  him."  Moffat  tells  us  of  the  Bechuanas 
that,  on  bringing  things  to  the  grave,  an  old  woman  speaks 
to  the  corpse  the  words — "  There  are  all  your  articles."  And 
the  Innuits  visit  the  graves,  talk  to  the  dead,  leave  food,  furs, 
etc.,  saying — "  Here,  uSTukertou,  is  something  to  eat,  and 
something  to  keep  you  warm." 

As  implied  by  the  last  case,  this  behaviour,  originally 
adopted  towards  those  just  dead,  extends  to  those  dead  some 
time.  After  a  burial  among  the  Bagos,  "  a  dead  man's  rela- 
tions come  and  talk  to  him  under  the  idea  that  he  hears  what 
they  say."  After  burning,  also,  the  same  thing  sometimes 
happens:  among  the  old  Kookies  the  ashes  are  "  addressed 
by  the  friends  of  the  deceased,  and  his  good  qualities  re- 
cited." The  Malagasy  not  only  "  address  themselves  in  an 
impassioned  manner  to  the  deceased,"  but,  on  entering  the 
burial-place,  inform  the  surrounding  dead  that  a  relative  is 
come  to  join  them,  and  bespeak  a  good  reception.  Even  by 
such  comparatively-advanced  peoples  as  those  of  ancient 
America,  this  practice  was  continued,  and,  indeed,  highly 
developed.  The  Mexicans,  giving  to  the  deceased  certain 
papers,  said : — "  By  means  of  this  you  will  pass  without  dan- 
ger between  the  two  mountains  which  fight  against  each 
other.  "With  the  second,  they  said:  By  means  of  this  you 
will  walk  without  obstruction  along  the  road  which  is  de- 
fended by  the  great  serpent.  With  the  third:  By  this  you 
will  go  securely  through  the  place  where  there  is  the  croco- 
dile Xochitonal."  So,  too,  among  the  Peruvians,  the  young 
knights  on  their  initiation,  addressed  their  embalmed  an- 
cestors, beseeching  "  them  to  make  their  descendants  as  for- 
tunate and  brave  as  they  had  been  themselves." 


THE  IDEAS  OF  DEATH  AND  RESURRECTION.       157 

After  learning  that  death  is  at  first  regarded  as  one  kind 
of  quiescent  life,  these  proceedings  no  longer  appear  so  ab- 
surd. Beginning  with  the  call,  which  wakes  the  sleeper  and 
sometimes  seems  effectual  in  reviving  one  who  has  swooned, 
this  speaking  to  the  dead  develops  in  various  directions; 
and  continues  to  be  a  custom  even  where  immediate  re-ani- 
mation is  not  looked  for. 

§  84.  The  belief  that  death  is  a  long-suspended  anima- 
tion, has  a  further  effect,  already  indicated  in  some  of  the 
foregoing  extracts.  I  refer  to  the  custom  of  giving  the  corpse 
food:  in  some  cases  actually  feeding  it;  and  in  most  cases 
leaving  eatables  and  drinkables  for  its  use. 

Occasionally  in  a  trance,  the  patient  swallows  morsels 
put  into  his  mouth.  Whether  or  not  such  an  experience  led 
to  it,  there  exists  a  practice  implying  the  belief  that  death 
is  an  allied  state.  Kolff  says  of  the  Arm  Islanders,  that 
after  one  has  died,  these  Papuans  try  to  make  him  eat ;  "  and 
when  they  find  that  he  does  not  partake  of  it,  the  mouth  is 
filled  with  eatables,  siri,  and  arrack,  until  it  runs  down  the 
body,  and  spreads  over  the  floor."  Among  the  Tahitians, 
"  if  the  deceased  was  a  chief  of  rank  or  fame,  a  priest  or  other 
person  was  appointed  to  attend  the  corpse,  and  present  food 
to  its  mouth  at  different  periods  during  the  day."  So  is  it 
with  the  Malanaus  of  Borneo:  when  a  chief  dies,  his  slaves 
attend  to  his  imagined  wants  with  the  fan,  sirih  and  betel- 
nut.  The  Curumbars,  between  death  and  burning,  fre- 
quently drop  a  little  grain  into  the  mouth  of  the  deceased. 

Mostly,  however,  the  aim  is  to  give  the  deceased  avail- 
able supplies  whenever  he  may  need  them.  In  some  cases 
he  is  thus  provided  for  while  awaiting  burial ;  as  among  the 
Fantees,  who  place  "  viands  and  wine  for  the  use  of  the 
departed  spirit,"  near  the  sofa  where  the  corpse  is  laid ;  and 
as  among  the  Karens,  by  whom  "  meat  is  set  before  the  body 
as  food,"  before  burial.  Tahitians  and  Sandwich  Islanders, 
too,  who  expose  their  dead  on  stages,  place  fruits  and  water 


158  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

beside  them;  and  the  New  Zealanders,  who  similarly  fur- 
nish provisions,  "  aver  that  at  night  the  spirit  comes  and 
feeds  from  the  sacred  calabashes."  Herrera  tells  us  of  cer- 
tain Brazilians,  that  they  put  the  dead  man  in  "  the  net 
or  hammock  he  used  to  lie  in,  and  during  the  first  days  they 
bring  him  meat,  thinking  he  lies  in  his  bed."  And  the  belief 
that  the  unburied  required  refreshment,  was  otherwise 
shown  by  the  Peruvians,  who  held  a  funeral  feast,  "  expect- 
ing the  soul  of  the  deceased,  which,  they  say,  must  come  to 
eat  and  to  drink." 

So  general  is  the  placing  of  provisions  in  or  upon  the 
grave,  that  an  enumeration  of  the  cases  before  me  would  be 
wearisome :  a  few  must  suffice.  In  Africa  may  be  instanced 
the  Sherbro  people,  who  "  are  in  the  habit  of  carrying  rice 
and  other  eatables  to  the  graves  of  their  departed  friends;  " 
the  Loango  people,  who  deposit  provisions  at  the  tomb;  the 
Inland  Negroes,  who  put  food  and  wine  on  the  graves;  and 
the  sanguinary  Dahomans,  who  place  on  the  grave  an  iron 
"  asen,"  on  which  "  water  or  blood,  as  a  drink  for  the  de- 
ceased, is  poured."  Turning  to  Asia,  we  find  the 
practice  among  the  Hill-tribes  of  India.  The  Bhils  cook 
rice  and  leave  some  where  the  body  was  burnt,  and  the  rest 
at  the  "  threshold  of  his  late  dwelling  ...  as  provision  for 
the  spirit;  "  and  kindred  customs  are  observed  by  Santals, 
Kookies,  Karens.  In  America,  of  the  uncivilized 
races,  may  be  named  the  Caribs;  who  put  the  corpse  "  in  a 
cavern  or  sepulchre  "  with  water  and  eatables.  But  it  was 
by  the  extinct  civilized  races  that  this  practice  was  most 
elaborated.  The  Chibchas,  shutting  up  the  dead  in  artificial 
caves,  wrapped  them  in  fine  mantles  and  placed  round  them 
many  maize  cakes  and  mucuras  of  chicha  [a  drink]  ;  and  of 
the  Peruvians,  Tschudi  tells  us  that  "  in  front  of  the  bodies 
they  used  to  place  two  rows  of  pots  filled  with  quiana,  maize, 
potatoes,  dried  llama-flesh,  etc." 

The  like  is  done  even  along  with  cremation.  Among  the 
Kookies,  the  widow  places  "  rice  and  vegetables  on  the  ashes 


THE  IDEAS  OF  DEATH  AND  RESURRECTION.       159 

of  her  husband."  The  ancient  Central  Americans  had  a 
kindred  habit.  Oviedo  gives  thus  the  statement  of  an  In- 
dian:— "  When  we  are  about  to  burn  the  body  we  put  beside 
it  some  boiled  maize  in  a  calabash,  and  attach  it  to  the  body 
and  burn  it  along  with  it."  Though  where,  the  corpse  is 
destroyed  by  fire,  the  conception  of  re-animation  in  its  orig- 
inal form  must  have  died  out,  this  continued  practice  of 
supplying  food  indicates  a  past  time  when  re-animation  was 
conceived  literally:  an  inference  verified  by  the  fact  that 
the  Kookies,  some  of  whom  bury  their  dead  while  others 
burn  them,  supply  eatables  in  either  case. 

§  85.  What  is  the  limit  to  the  time  for  the  return  of  the 
other-self?  Hours  have  elapsed  and  the  insensible  have  re- 
vived; days  have  elapsed  and  the  insensible  have  revived; 
will  they  revive  after  weeks  or  months,  and  then  want  food? 
The  primitive  man  cannot  say.  The  answer  is  at  least  doubt- 
ful, and  he  takes  the  safe  course :  he  repeats  the  supplies  of 
food. 

It  is  thus  with  the  indigenes  of  India.  Among  the  Bodo 
and  Dhimals,  the  food  and  drink  laid  on  the  grave  are  re- 
newed after  some  days,  and  the  dead  is  addressed;  among 
the  Kookies  the  corpse  being  "  deposited  upon  a  stage  raised 
under  a  shed,"  food  and  drink  are  "  daily  brought,  and  laid 
before  it."  By  American  races  this  custom  is  carried  much 
further.  Hall  tells  us  of  the  Innuits  that  "  whenever  they 
return  to  the  vicinity  of  the  kindred's  grave,  a  visit  is  made 
to  it  with  the  best  of  food  "  as  a  present;  and  Schoolcraft 
says  most  of  the  Xorth  American  Indians  "  for  one  year  visit 
the  place  of  the  dead,  and  carry  food  and  make  a  feast  for 
the  dead,  to  feed  the  spirit  of  the  departed."  But  in  this,  as 
in  other  ways,  the  extinct  civilized  races  of  America  provided 
most  carefully.  In  Mexico  "  after  the  burial,  they  returned 
to  the  tomb  for  twenty  days,  and  put  on  it  food  and  roses; 
so  they  did  after  eighty  days,  and  so  on  from  eighty  to 
eighty."  The  aboriginal  Peruvians  used  to  open  the  tombs, 


160  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

and  renew  the  clothes  and  food  which  were  placed  in  them. 
Still  further  were  such  practices  carried  with  the  embalmed 
bodies  of  the  Yncas.  At  festivals  they  brought  provisions 
to  them,  saying — "  When  you  were  alive  you  ,used  to  eat 
and  drink  of  this;  may  your  soul  now  receive  it  and  feed 
on  it,  wheresoever  you  may  be."  And  Pedro  Pizarro  says 
they  brought  out  the  bodies  every  day  and  seated  them  in  a 
row,  according  to  their  antiquity.  While  the  servants 
feasted,  they  put  the  food  of  the  dead  on  a  fire,  and  their 
chicha  vessels  before  them. 

Here  the  primitive  practice  of  repeating  the  supplies  of 
food  for  the  corpse,  in  doubt  how  long  the  revival  may  be 
delayed,  has  developed  into  a  system  of  observances  con- 
siderably divergent  from  the  original  ones. 

§  86.  Other  sequences  of  the  belief  in  re-animation, 
equally  remarkable,  may  next  be  named.  If  the  corpse  is 
still  in  some  way  alive,  like  one  in  a  trance,  must  it  not 
breathe,  and  does  it  not  require  warmth?  These  questions 
sundry  races  practically  answer  in  the  affirmative. 

The  Guaranis  "  believe  that  the  soul  continued  with  the 
body  in  the  grave,  for  which  reason  they  were  careful  to 
leave  room  for  it  "...  they  would  remove  "  part  of  the 
earth,  lest  it  should  lie  heavy  upon  them  "...  and  some- 
times "  covered  the  face  of  the  corpse  with  a  concave  dish, 
that  the  soul  might  not  be  stifled."  It  is  an  Esquimaux  be- 
lief "  that  any  weight  pressing  upon  the  corpse  would  give 
pain  to  the  deceased."  And  after  the  conquest,  the  Peru- 
vians used  to  disinter  people  buried  in  the  churches,  saying 
that  the  bodies  were  very  uneasy  when  pressed  by  the  soil, 
and  liked  better  to  stay  in  the  open  air. 

A  fire  serves  both  to  give  warmth  and  for  cooking;  and 
one  or  other  of  these  conveniences  is  in  some  cases  provided 
for  the  deceased.  By  the  Iroquois  "  a  fire  was  built  upon  the 
grave  at  night  to  enable  the  spirit  to  prepare  its  food." 
Among  the  Brazilians  it  is  the  habit  to  "  light  fires  by  the 


THE  IDEAS  OF  DEATH  AND  RESURRECTION.       161 

side  of  newly-made  graves  .  .  .  for  the  personal  comfort 
of  the  defunct."  Of  the  Sherbro  people  (Coast  Negroes) 
Schb'n  says  that  "  frequently  in  cold  or  wet  nights  they  will 
light  a  fire  "  on  the  grave  of  a  departed  friend.  By  the 
Western  Australians,  too,  fires  are  kept  burning  on  the  burial 
place  for  days;  and  should  the  deceased  be  a  person  of  dis- 
tinction, such  fires  are  lighted  daily  for  three  or  four  years. 

§  87.  Resuscitation  as  originally  conceived,  cannot  take 
place  unless  there  remains  a  body  to  be  resuscitated.  Ex- 
pectation of  a  revival  is  therefore  often  acompanied  by 
recognition  of  the  need  for  preserving  the  corpse  from  in- 
jury.^ 

Note,  first,  sundry  signs  of  the  conviction  that  if  the 
body  has  been  destroyed  resurrection  cannot  take  place. 
When  Bruce  tells  us  that  among  the  Abyssinians,  criminals 
are  seldom  buried ;  when  we  learn  that  by  the  Chibchas  the 
bodies  of  the  greatest  criminals  were  left  unburied  in  the 
fields ;  we  may  suspect  the  presence  of  a  belief  that  renewal 
of  life  is  prevented  when  the  body  is  devoured.  This  belief 
we  elsewhere  find  avowed.  "  No  more  formidable  punish- 
ment to  the  Egyptian  was  possible  than  destroying  his  corpse, 
its  preservation  being  the  main  condition  of  immortality." 
The  New  Zealanders  held  that  a  man  who  was  eaten  by 
them,  was  destroyed  wholly  and  for  ever.  The  Damaras 
think  that  dead  men,  if  buried,  "  cannot  rest  in  the  grave. 
.  .  .  You  must  throw  them  away,  and  let  the  wolves  eat 
them;  then  they  won't  come  and  bother  us."  The  Mati- 
amba  negresses  believe  that  by  throwing  their  husbands' 
corpses  into  the  water,  they  drown  the  souls:  these  would 
otherwise  trouble  them.  And  possibly  it  may  be  under  a 
similar  belief  that  the  Kamschadales  give  corpses  "  for  food 
to  their  dogs." 

Where,  however,  the  aim  is  not  to  insure  annihilation  of 
the  departed,  but  to  further  his  well-being,  anxiety  is  shown 
that  the  corpse  shall  be  guarded  against  ill-treatment.  This 


162  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

anxiety  prompts  devices  which  vary  according  to  the  views 
taken  of  the  deceased's  state  of  existence. 

In  some  cases  security  is  sought  in  secrecy,  or  inaccessi- 
bility, or  both.  Over  certain  sepulchres  the  Chibchas 
planted  trees  to  conceal  them.  After  a  time  the  remains 
of  New  Zealand  chiefs  were  "  secretly  deposited  by  priests 
in  sepulchres  on  hill-tops,  in  forests,  or  in  caves."  The 
Muruts  of  Borneo  place  the  bones  of  their  chiefs  in  boxes  on 
the  ridges  of  the  highest  hills ;  and  sometimes  the  Tahitians, 
to  prevent  the  bones  from  being  stolen,  deposited  them  on 
the  tops  of  almost  inaccessible  mountains.  Among  the 
Kaffirs,  while  the  bodies  of  common  people  are  exposed  to  be 
devoured  by  wolves,  those  of  chiefs  are  buried  in  their  cattle- 
pens.  So,  too,  a  Bechuana  chief  "  is  buried  in  his  cattle- 
pen,  and  all  the  cattle  are  driven  for  an  hour  or  two  around 
and  over  the  grave,  so  that  it  may  be  quite  obliterated." 
Still  stranger  was  the  precaution  taken  on  behalf  of  the 
ruler  of  Bogota.  "  They  divert,"  says  Simon,  "  the  course 
of  a  river,  and  in  its  bed  make  the  grave.  ...  As  soon  as 
the  cazique  is  buried,  they  let  the  stream  return  to  its  natural 
course."  The  interment  of  Alaric  was  similarly  conducted; 
and  Cameron  tells  us  that  in  the  African  state  of  Urua,  the 
like  method  of  burying  a  king  is  still  in  use. 

While  in  these  cases  the  desire  to  hide  the  corpse  and  its 
belongings  from  enemies,  brute  and  human,  predominates; 
in  other  cases  the  desire  to  protect  the  corpse  against  imag- 
ined discomfort  predominates.  We  have  already  noted  the 
means  sometimes  used  to  insure  its  safety  without  stopping 
its  breathing,  supposed  to  be  still  going  on;  and  probably 
a  kindred  purpose  originated  the  practice  of  raising  the 
corpse  to  a  height  above  the  ground.  Sundry  of  the  Poly- 
nesians place  dead  bodies  on  scaffolds.  In  Australia,  too, 
and  in  the  Andaman  Islands,  the  corpse  is  occasionally  thus 
disposed  of.  Among  the  Zulus,  while  some  bury  and  some 
burn,  others  expose  in  trees;  and  Dyaks  and  Kyans  have  a 
similar  custom.  But  it  is  in  America,  where  the  natives,  as 


THE  IDEAS  OP  DEATH  AND  RESURRECTION.       163 

we  see,  betray  in  other  ways  the  desire  to  shield  the  corpse 
from  pressure,  that  exposure  on  raised  stages  is  commonest. 
The  Dakotahs  adopt  this  method;  at  one  time  it  was  the 
practice  of  the  Iroquois;  Catlin,  describing  the  Mandans  as 
having  scaffolds  on  which  "  their  '  dead  live,'  as  they  term 
it,"  remarks  that  they  are  thus  kept  out  of  the  way  of  wolves 
and  dogs ;  and  Schoolcraf t  says  the  same  of  the  Chippewas. 
Among  South-American  tribes,  a  like  combination  of  ends 
was  sought  by  using  chasms  and  caverns  as  places  of  sepul- 
ture. The  Caribs  did  this.  The  Guiana  Indians  bury  their 
dead,  only  in  the  absence  of  cavities  amid  the  rocks.  The 
Chibchas  interred  in  a  kind  of  "  bobedas  "  or  caves,  which 
had  been  made  for  the  purpose.  And  the  several  modes  of 
treating  the  dead  adopted  by  the  ancient  Peruvians,  all  of 
them  attained,  as  far  as  might  be,  both  ends — protection, 
and  absence  of  supposed  inconvenience  to  the  corpse.  Where 
they  had  not  natural  clefts  in  the  rocks,  they  made  "  great 
holes  and  excavations  with  closed  doors  before  them;  "  or 
else  they  kept  the  embalmed  bodies  in  temples. 

Leaving  the  New  World,  throughout  which  the  primi- 
tive conception  of  death  as  a  long-suspended  animation  seems 
to  have  been  especially  vivid,  we  find  elsewhere  less  recogni- 
tion of  any  sensitiveness  in  the  dead  to  pressure  or  want  of 
air:  there  is  simply  a  recognition  of  the  need  for  prevent- 
ing destruction  by  animals,  or  injury  by  men  and  demons. 
This  is  the  obvious  motive  for  covering  over  the  corpse ;  and, 
occasionally,  the  assigned  motive.  Earth  is  sometimes  not 
enough;  and  then  additional  protection  is  given.  By  the 
Mandingoes,  "  prickly  bushes  are  laid  upon  "  the  grave,  "  to 
prevent  the  wolves  from  digging  up  the  body;  "  and  the 
Joloffs,  a  tribe  of  Coast  Negroes,  use  the  same  precaution. 
The  Arabs  keep  out  wild  beasts  by  heaping  stones  over  the 
body;  and  the  Esquimaux  do  the  like.  The  Bodo  and 
Dhimals  pile  stones  "  upon  the  grave  to  prevent  disturbance 
by  jackals,"  etc.  In  Damara-land,  a  chief's  tomb  "  consists 
of  a  large  heap  of  stones  surrounded  by  an  enclosure  of 


164  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

thorn-brushes."  And  now  observe  a  remarkable 

sequence.  The  kindred  of  the  deceased,  from  real  or  pro- 
fessed affection,  and  others  from  fear  of  what  he  may  do 
when  his  double  returns,  join  in  augmenting  the  protective 
mass.  Among  the  Inland  Negroes,  large  cairns  are  formed 
over  graves,  by  passing  relatives  who  continually  add  stones 
to  the  heap ;  and  it  was  a  custom  with  the  aborigines  of  San 
Salvador  "  to  throw  a  handful  of  earth,  or  a  stone,  upon  the 
grave  of  the  distinguished  dead,  as  a  tribute  to  their  mem- 
ory." Obviously,  in  proportion  as  the  deceased  is  loved, 
reverenced,  or  dreaded,  this  process  is  carried  further. 
Hence  an  increasing  of  the  heap  for  protective  purposes, 
brings  about  an  increasing  of  it  as  a  mark  of  honour  or  of 
power.  Thus,  the  Guatemala  Americans  "  raised  mounds 
of  earth  corresponding  in  height  with  the  importance  of  the 
deceased."  Of  the  Chibchas,  Cieza  says — "  they  pile  up 
such  masses  of  earth  in  making  their  tombs,  that  they  look 
like  small  hills;  "  and  Acosta,  describing  certain  other 
burial  mounds  in  those  parts  as  "  heaped  up  during  the 
mourning,"  adds — "  as  that  extended  as  long  as  drink  was 
granted,  the  size  of  the  tumulus  shows  the  fortune  of  the 
deceased."  Ulloa  makes  a  kindred  remark  respecting  the 
monuments  of  the  Peruvians. 

So  that,  beginning  with  the  small  mound  necessarily  re- 
sulting from  the  displacement  of  earth  by  the  buried  body, 
we  come  at  length  to  such  structures  as  the  Egyptian  pyra- 
mids: the  whole  series  originating  in  the  wish  to  preserve 
the  body  from  injuries  hindering  resuscitation. 

§  88.  Another  group  of  customs  having  the  same  pur- 
pose, must  be  named.  Along  with  the  belief  that  re-anima- 
tion will  be  prevented  if  the  returning  other-self  finds  a  muti- 
lated corpse,  or  none  at  all;  there  goes  the  belief  that  to 
insure  re-animation,  putrefaction  must  be  stopped.  That 
this  idea  leaves  no  traces  among  men  in  very  low  states,  is 
probably  due  to  the  fact  that  no  methods  of  arresting  decom- 


THE  IDEAS  OF  DEATH  AND  RESURRECTION.       165 

position  have  been  discovered  by  them.  But  among  more 
advanced  races,  we  find  proofs  that  the  idea  arises  and  that 
it  leads  to  action. 

The  prompting  motive  was  shown  by  certain  of  the  an- 
cient Mexicans,  who  believed  that  "  the  dead  were  to  rise 
again,  and  when  their  bones  were  dry,  they  laid  them  to- 
gether in  a  basket,  and  hung  them  up  to  a  bough  of  a  tree, 
that  they  might  not  have  to  look  for  them  at  the  resurrec- 
tion." Similarly,  the  Peruvians,  explaining  their  observ- 
ances to  Garcilasso,  said — "  We,  therefore,  in  order  that  we 
may  not  have  to  search  for  our  hair  and  nails  at  a  time  when 
there  will  be  much  hurry  and  confusion,  place  them  in  one 
place,  that  they  may  be  brought  together  more  conveniently, 
and,  whenever  it  is  possible,  we  are  also  careful  to  spit  in 
one  place." 

With  such  indications  to  guide  us,  we  cannot  doubt  the 
meaning  of  the  trouble  taken  to  prevent  decay.  When  we 
read  that  in  Africa  the  Loango  people  smoke  corpses,  and 
that  in  America  some  of  the  Chibchas  "  dried  the  bodies  of 
their  dead  in  barbacoas  on  a  slow  fire;  "  we  must  infer  that 
the  aim  is,  or  wras,  to  keep  the  flesh  in  a  state  of  integrity 
against  the  time  of  resuscitation.  And  on  finding  that  by 
these  same  Chibchas,  as  also  by  some  of  the  Mexicans,  and 
by  the  Peruvians,  the  bodies  of  kings  and  caziques  were  em- 
balmed; we  must  conclude  that  embalming  was  adopted 
simply  as  a  more  effectual  method  of  achieving  the  same  end : 
especially  after  noting  that  the  preservation  was  great  in  pro- 
portion as  the  rank  was  high ;  as  is  shown  by  Acosta's  remark 
that  "  the  body  [of  an  Ynca]  was  so  complete  and  well  pre- 
served, by  means  of  a  sort  of  bitumen,  that  it  appeared  to  be 
alive." 

Proof  that  like  ideas  suggested  the  like  practices  of  the 
ancient  Egyptians,  has  already  been  given. 

§  89.  Some  further  funeral  rites,  indirectly  implying 
the  belief  in  resurrection,  must  be  added;  partly  because 
12 


166  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

they  lead  to  certain  customs  hereafter  to  be  explained.  I 
refer  to  the  bodily  mutilations  which,  in  so  many  cases,  are 
marks  of  mourning. 

We  read  in  the  Iliad  that  at  the  funeral  of  Patroclus,  the 
Myrmidons  "  heaped  all  the  corpse  with  their  hair  that  they 
cut  off  and  threw  thereon;  "  further,  that  Achilles  placed 
"  a  golden  lock  "  in  the  hands  of  the  corpse;  and  that  this 
act  went  along  with  the  dedication  of  himself  to  avenging 
Patroclus,  and  with  the  promise  to  join  him  afterward.  Hair 
is  thus  used  as  a  gage :  a  portion  of  the  body  is  given  as  sym- 
bolizing a  gift  of  the  whole.  And  this  act  of  affection,  or 
mode  of  propitiation,  or  both,  prevails  widely  among  un- 
civilized races. 

As  further  showing  what  the  rite  means,  I  may  begin 
with  Bonwick's  statement  that,  by  Tasmanian  women,  "  the 
hair,  cut  off  in  grief,  was  thrown  upon  the  mound;  "  and 
may  add  the  testimony  of  Winterbottom  respecting  the  Soo- 
soos,  that  one  grave  was  seen — that  of  a  woman — with  her 
eldest  daughter's  hair  placed  upon  it.  Where  we 

do  not  learn  what  becomes  of  the  hair,  we  yet  in  numerous 
cases  learn  that  it  is  cut  off.  Among  the  Coast  Negroes  a 
dead  man's  more  immediate  relations  shave  off  all  the  hair ; 
and  some  Damaras,  on  the  death  of  a  valued  friend,  do  the 
like.  Similarly  with  the  Mpongwe,  the  Kaffirs,  and  the 
Hottentots.  In  Hawaii  and  Samoa  the  hair  is  cut  or  torn; 
the  Tongans  shave  the  head ;  the  New  Zealanders,  in  some 
cases,  clip  half  the  head-hair  short;  among  the  Tannese 
"  cutting  off  the  hair  is  a  sign  of  mourning;  "  and  on  the 
death  of  the  late  Queen  of  Madagascar,  "  the  entire  country 
round  Antananarivo  was  clean  clipped,  except  the  Euro- 
peans and  some  score  or  so  of  privileged  Malagasy."  In 
America  it  is  the  same.  A  Greenlander's  widow  sacrifices 
her  tresses;  the  near  relatives  of  a  dead  Chinook  cut  their 
hair  off;  and  the  Chippewayans,  the  Comanches,  the 
Dakotahs,  the  Mandans,  the  Tupis,  have  the  same  cus- 
tom. The  significance  of  this  rite  as  a  sign  of  sub- 


THE  IDEAS  OF  DEATH  AND   RESURRECTION.       167 

ordination,  made  to  propitiate  the  presently-reviving  dead, 
is  shown  by  sundry  facts.  Among  the  Todas,  there  is  a  cut- 
ting off  of  the  hair  at  a  death,  but  only  "  by  the  younger 
members  to  denote  their  respect  for  their  seniors;  "  and 
among  the  Arabs,  "  on  the  death  of  a  father,  the  children  of 
both  sexes  cut  off  their  kerouns  or  tresses  of  hair  in  testimony 
of  grief."  By  South  Americans,  both  political  and  domestic 
loyalty  are  thus  marked.  We  read  that  among  the  Abi- 
pones,  "  on  the  death  of  a  cacique,  all  the  men  under  his 
authority  shave  their  long  hair  as  a  sign  of  grief."  So  was 
it  with  the  Peruvians:  the  Indians  of  Llacta-cunya  made 
"  great  lamentations  over  their  dead,  and  the  women  who 
are  not  killed,  with  all  the  servants,  are  shorn  of  their 
hair."  That  is  to  say,  those  wives  who  did  not  give  them- 
selves wholly  to  go  with  the  dead,  gave  their  hair  as  a  pledge. 
Like  in  their  meanings  are  the  accompanying  self- 
bleedings,  gashings,  and  amputations.  At  funerals,  the 
Tasmanians  "  lacerated  their  bodies  with  sharp  shells  and 
stones."  The  Australians,  too,  cut  themselves;  and  so  do, 
or  did,  the  Tahitians,  the  Tongans,  and  the  Xew  Zealanders. 
We  read  that  among  the  Greenlanders  the  men  "  some- 
times gash  their  bodies;  "  and  that  the  Chinooks  "  disfigure 
and  lacerate  their  bodies."  The  widows  of  the  Comanches 
"  cut  their  arms,  legs,  and  bodies  in  gashes,  until  they  are 
exhausted  by  the  loss  of  blood,  and  frequently  commit  sui- 
cide; "  and  the  Dakotahs  "  not  unfrequently  gash  them- 
selves and  amputate  one  or  more  fingers."  In  this 
last  instance  we  are  introduced  to  the  fact  that  not  blood 
only,  but  sometimes  a  portion  of  the  body,  is  given,  where 
the  expression  of  reverence  or  obedience  is  intended  to  be 
great.  In  Tonga,  on  the  death  of  a  high  priest,  the  first 
joint  on  the  little  finger  is  amputated ;  and  when  a  king  or 
chief  in  the  Sandwich  Islands  died,  the  mutilations  under- 
gone by  his  subjects  were — tattooing  a  spot  on  the  tongue, 
or  cutting  the  ears,  or  knocking  out  one  of  the  front 
teeth.  On  remembering  that  blood,  and  portions 


168  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

of  the  body,  are  offered  in  religious  sacrifice — on  reading 
that  the  Dahomans  sprinkle  human  blood  on  the  tombs  of 
their  old  kings,  to  get  the  aid  of  their  ghosts  in  war — on 
finding  that  the  Mexicans  gave  their  idols  their  blood  to 
drink,  that  some  priests  bled  themselves  daily,  and  that  even 
male  infants  were  bled — on  being  told  that  the  like  was 
done  in  Yucatan,  and  Guatemala,  and  San  Salvador,  and 
that  the  coast-people  of  Peru  offered  blood  alike  to  idols  and 
on  sepulchres;  we  cannot  doubt  that  propitiation  of  the 
dead  man's  double  is  the  original  purpose  of  these  funeral 
rites. 

That  such  is  the  meaning  is,  indeed,  in  one  case  dis- 
tinctly asserted.  Turner  tells  us  that  a  Samoan  ceremony 
on  the  occasion  of  a  decease,  was  "  beating  the  head  with 
stones  till  the  blood  runs;  and  this  they  called  '  an  offering 
of  blood  '  for  the  dead." 

§  90.  All  these  various  observances,  then,  imply  the  con- 
viction that  death  is  a  long-suspended  animation.  The  en- 
deavours to  revive  the  corpse  by  ill-usage;  the  calling  it 
by  name,  and  addressing  to  it  reproaches  or  inquiries;  the 
endeavours  to  feed  it,  and  the  leaving  with  it  food  and  drink ; 
the  measures  taken  to  prevent  its  discomfort  from  pressure 
and  impediments  to  breathing ;  the  supplying  of  fire  to  cook 
by,  or  to  keep  off  cold;  the  care  taken  to  prevent  injury  by 
wild  beasts,  and  to  arrest  decay ;  and  even  these  various  self- 
injuries  symbolizing  subordination ; — all  unite  to  show  this 
belief.  And  this  belief  is  avowed. 

Thus  in  Africa,  the  Ambamba  people  think  that  "  men 
and  youths  are  thrown  by  the  fetich  priests  into  a  torpid 
state  lasting  for  three  days,  and  sometimes  buried  in  the 
fetich-house  for  many  years,  but  being  subsequently  restored 
to  life."  Referring  to  a  man  who  had  died  a  few  days  before 
among  the  Inland  Xegroes,  Lander  says  "  there  was  a  public 
declaration  that  his  tutelary  god  had  resuscitated  him." 
And  Livingstone  was  thought  by  a  Zambesi  chief,  to  be  an 


THE  IDEAS  OF  DEATH  AND  RESURRECTION.       169 

Italian,  Siriatomba,  risen  from  the  dead.  Turning  to  Poly- 
nesia, we  find,  among  the  incongruous  beliefs  of  the  Fijians, 
one  showing  a  transition  between  the  primitive  idea  of  a 
renewed  ordinary  life,  and  the  idea  of  another  life  elsewhere ; 
they  think  that  death  became  universal  because  the  children 
of  the  first  man  did  not  dig  him  up  again,  as  one  of  the 
gods  commanded.  Had  they  done  so,  the  god  said  all  men 
would  have  lived  again  after  a  few  days'  interment.  And 
then,  in  Peru,  where  so  much  care  was  taken  of  the  corpse, 
resuscitation  was  an  article  of  faith.  "  The  Yncas  believed 
in  a  universal  resurrection — not  for  glory  or  punishment, 
but  for  a  renewal  of  this  temporal  life." 

Just  noting  past  signs  of  this  belief  among  higher  races 
— such  as  the  fact  that  "  in  Moslem  law,  prophets,  martyrs, 
and  saints  are  not  supposed  to  be  dead:  their  property, 
therefore,  remains  their  own ;  "  and  such  as  the  fact  that  in 
Christian  -Europe,  distinguished  men,  from  Charlemagne 
down  to  the  first  Napoleon,  have  been  expected  to  reappear; 
let  us  note  the  still  existing  form  of  this  belief.  It  differs 
from  the  primitive  form  less  than  we  suppose.  I  do  not 
mean  merely  that  in  saying  "  by  one  man  sin  entered  into 
the  world,  and  death  by  sin,"  the  civilized  creed  implies  that 
death  is  not  a  natural  event ;  just  as  clearly  as  do  the  savage 
creeds  which  ascribe  death  to  some  difference  of  opinion 
among  the  gods,  or  disregard  of  their  injunctions.  Nor  do 
I  refer  only  to  the  further  evidence  that  in  our  State  Prayer- 
Book,  bodily  resurrection  is  unhesitatingly  asserted;  and 
that  poems  of  more  modern  date  contain  descriptions  of  the 
dead  rising  again.  I  have  in  view  facts  showing  that,  even 
still,  many  avow  this  belief  as  clearly  as  it  was  lately  avowed 
by  a  leading  ecclesiastic.  On  July  5th,  1874,  the  Bishop 
of  Lincoln  preached  against  cremation,  as  tending  to  under- 
mine men's  faith  in  bodily  resurrection.  Xot  only,  in  com- 
mon with  the  primitive  man,  does  Dr.  Wordsworth  hold 
that  the  corpse  of  each  buried  person  will  be  resuscitated; 
but  he  also  holds,  in  common  with  the  primitive  man,  that 


170  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

destruction  of  the  corpse  will  prevent  resuscitation.  Had 
lie  been  similarly  placed,  the  bishop  would  doubtless  have 
taken  the  same  course  as  the  Ynca  Atahuallpa,  who  turned 
Christian  in  order  to  be  hanged  instead  of  burnt  because 
(he  said  to  his  wives  and  to  the  Indians)  if  his  body  was 
not  burnt,  his  father,  the  Sun,  would  raise  him  again. 

And  now  observe,  finally,  the  modification  by  which  the 
civilized  belief  in  resurrection  is  made  partially  unlike  the 
savage  belief.  There  is  no  abandonment  of  it:  the  antici- 
pated event  is  simply  postponed.  Supernaturalism,  grad- 
ually discredited  by  science,  transfers  its  supernatural  occur- 
rences to  remoter  places  in  time  or  space.  As  believers  in 
special  creations  suppose  them  to  happen,  not  where  we  are, 
but  in  distant  parts  of  the  world ;  as  miracles,  admitted  not 
to  take  place  now,  are  said  to  have  taken  place  during  a  past 
dispensation;  so,  re-animation  of  the  body,  no  longer  ex- 
pected as  immediate,  is  expected  at  an  indefinitely  far-off 
time.  The  idea  of  death  differentiates  slowly  from  the  idea 
of  temporary  insensibility.  At  first  revival  is  looked  for  in 
a  few  hours,  or  in  a  few  days,  or  in  a  few  years ;  and  grad- 
ually, as  death  becomes  more  definitely  conceived,  revival 
is  not  looked  for  till  the  end  of  all  things. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    IDEAS    OF   SOULS,    GHOSTS,    SPIRITS,    DEMONS,    ETC. 

§  91.  THE  traveller  Mungo  Park,  after  narrating  a  sud- 
den rencontre  with  two  negro  horsemen,  who  galloped  off 
in  terror,  goes  on  to  say: — "  About  a  mile  to  the  westward, 
they  fell  in  with  my  attendants,  to  whom  they  related  a 
frightful  story:  it  seems  their  fears  had  dressed  me  in  the 
flowing  robes  of  a  tremendous  spirit;  and  one  of  them  af- 
firmed that  when  I  made  my  appearance,  a  cold  blast  of  wind 
came  pouring  down  upon  him  from  the  sky,  like  so  much 
cold  water." 

I  quote  this  passage  to  remind  the  reader  how  effectually 
fear,  when  joined  with  a  pre-established  belief,  produces 
illusions  supporting  that  belief;  and  how  readily,  therefore, 
the  primitive  man  finds  proof  that  the  dead  reappear. 

Another  preliminary: — A  clergyman  known  to  me,  ac- 
cepting in  full  the  doctrine  of  the  natural  evolution  of 
species,  nevertheless  professes  to  accept  literally  the  state- 
ment that  "  God  formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the  ground, 
and  breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life:  "  an  in- 
congruity of  beliefs  which  may  pair  off  with  that  of  Roman 
Catholics  who,  seeing,  touching,  and  tasting  the  unchanged 
wafer,  yet  hold  it  to  be  flesh. 

These  acceptances  of  irreconcilable  conceptions,  even  by 
cultivated  members  of  civilized  communities,  I  instance  as 
suggesting  how  readily  primitive  men,  low  in  intelligence 
and  without  knowledge,  may  entertain  conceptions  which 

171 


172  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

are  mutually  destructive.  It  is  difficult  to  picture  them 
as  thinking  that  the  dead,  though  buried,  come  back  in 
tangible  shapes.  And  where  they  assert  that  the  duplicate 
goes  away,  leaving  the  corpse  behind,  there  seems  no  con- 
sistency in  the  accompanying  supposition  that  it  needs  the 
food  and  drink  they  provide,  or  wants  clothing  and  fire.  For 
if  they  conceive  it  as  aeriform  or  ethereal,  then  how  can  they 
suppose  it  to  consume  solid  food,  as  in  many  cases  they  do; 
and  if  they  regard  it  as  substantial,  then  how  do  they  con- 
ceive it  to  co-exist  with  the  corpse,  and  to  leave  the  grave 
without  disturbing  its  covering? 

But  after  reminding  ourselves,  as  above,  of  the  extremes 
of  credulity  and  illogicality  possible  even  in  educated  men 
of  developed  races,  we  shall  infer  that  the  primitive  man's 
ideas  of  the  other-self,  impossible  though  they  look  to  us, 
can  nevertheless  be  entertained. 

§  92.  Typical  as  it  is,  I  must  set  out  with  the  often-cited 
notion  of  the  Australians,  so  definitely  expressed  by  the  con- 
demned criminal  who  said  that  after  his  execution  he  should 
jump  up  a  white-fellow  and  have  plenty  of  sixpences.  Many 
have  heard  of  the  case  of  Sir  George  Grey,  who  was  recog- 
nized and  caressed  by  an  Australian  woman  as  her  deceased 
son  come  back;  and  equally  illustrative  is  the  case  of  Mrs. 
Thomson,  who,  regarded  as  the  returned  other-self  of  a  late 
member  of  the  tribe,  was  sometimes  spoken  of  by  the  Aus- 
tralians she  lived  with  as  "  Poor  thing !  she  is  nothing — 
only  a  ghost!  "  Again,  a  settler  with  a  bent  arm,  being 
identified  as  a  lately-deceased  native  who  had  a  bent  arm, 
was  saluted  with — "  O,  my  Balludery,  you  jump  up  white 
fellow!  "  And,  giving  other  instances,  Bonwick  quotes 
Davis's  explanation  of  this  Australian  belief,  as  being  that 
black  men,  when  skinned  before  eating  them,  are  seen  to 
be  white;  and  that  therefore  the  whites  are  taken  for  their 
ghosts.  But  a  like  belief  is  elsewhere  entertained  without 
this  hypothesis.  The  New  Caledonians  "  think  white  men 


THE  IDEAS  OF  SOULS,  GHOSTS,  SPIRITS,  DEMONS,  ETC.  173 

are  the  spirits  of  the  dead,  and  bring  sickness."  "  At  Darn- 
ley  Island,  the  Prince  of  Wales'  Islands,  and  Cape  York, 
the  word  used  to  signify  a  white  man  also  means  a  ghost." 
Krumen  call  Europeans  "  the  ghost-tribe;  "  a  people  in  Old 
Calabar  call  them  "  spirit-men;  "  and  the  Mpongwe  of  the 
Gaboon  call  them  "  ghosts." 

The  implication,  put  by  these  many  cases  beyond  doubt, 
that  the  duplicate  is  at  first  conceived  as  no  less  material 
than  its  original,  is  shown  with  equal  clearness  in  other 
ways  among  other  peoples.  Thus  the  Karens  say  "  the  La 
[spirit]  sometimes  appears  after  death,  and  cannot  then  be 
distinguished  from  the  person  himself."  The  Araucanians 
think  "  the  soul,  when  separated  from  the  body,  exercises 
in  another  life  the  same  functions  it  performed  in  this,  with 
no  other  difference  except  that  they  are  unaccompanied  with 
fatigue  or  satiety."  The  inhabitants  of  Quimbaya  "  ac- 
knowledged that  there  was  something  immortal  in  man,  but 
they  did  not  distinguish  the  soul  from  the  body."  The  dis- 
tinct statement  of  the  ancient  Peruvians  was  that  "  the  souls 
must  rise  out  of  their  tombs,  with  all  that  belonged  to  their 
bodies."  They  joined  with  this  the  belief  "  that  the  souls 
of  the  dead  wandered  up  and  down  and  endure  cold,  thirst, 
hunger,  and  travell."  And  along  with  the  practice  of  light- 
ing fires  at  chiefs'  graves,  there  went,  in  Samoa,  the  belief 
that  the  spirits  of  the  unburied  dead  wandered  about  cry- 
ing "  Oh,  how  cold!  oh!  how  cold!  " 

Besides  being  expressed,  this  belief  is  implied  by  acts. 
The  practice  of  some  Peruvians,  who  scattered  "  flour  of 
maize,  or  quinua,  about  the  dwelling,  to  see,  as  they  say,  by 
the  footsteps  whether  the  deceased  has  been  moving  about," 
is  paralleled  elsewhere:  even  among  the  Jews,  sifted  ashes 
were  used  for  tracing  the  footsteps  of  demons ;  and  by  some 
of  them,  demons  were  regarded  as  the  spirits  of  the  wicked 
dead.  A  like  idea  must  exist  among  those  Xegroes  men- 
tioned by  Bastian,  who  put  thorns  in  the  paths  leading  to 
their  villages,  to  keep  away  demons.  Elsewhere,  the  alleged 


174  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

demands  for  provisions  by  the  dead  have  the  same  implica- 
tion. "  Give  us  some  food,  that  we  may  eat  and  set  out,"  say 
certain  Amazulu  spirits,  who  represent  themselves  as  going 
to  fight  the  spirits  of  another  place.  Among  the  North- 
American  Indians,  the  spirits  are  supposed  to  smoke;  and 
in  Fiji,  it  is  said  that  the  gods  "  eat  the  souls  of  those  who 
are  destroyed  by  men  " — first  roasting  them.  It  is  also  a 
Fijian  belief  that  some  "  souls  are  killed  by  men:  "  that  is, 
the  second  self  may  have  to  be  fought  in  battle  like  the  first. 
So,  too,  by  the  Amazulu,  "  it  is  supposed  that  the  Amatongo, 
or  the  dead,  can  die  again.  .  .  .  We  have  allusions  to  their 
being  killed  in  battle,  and  of  their  being  carried  away  by  the 
river."  This  belief  in  the  substantiality  of  the  double,  was 
shared  by  the  ancient  Hindus,  by  the  Tatars,  and  by  early 
Europeans. 

§  93.  The  transition  from  this  original  conception,  to  the 
less  crude  conceptions  which  come  later,  cannot  be  clearly 
traced;  but  there  are  signs  of  a  progressive  modification. 

While  the  Tahitians-hold  that  most  spirits  of  the  dead 
are  "  eaten  by  the  gods,"  not  at  once,  but  by  degrees  (imply- 
ing separability  of  the  parts) ;  they  hold  that  others  are  not 
eaten,  and  sometimes  appear  to  the  survivors  in  dreams :  this 
re-appearance  being  probably  the  ground  for  the  inference 
that  they  are  not  eaten.  Again,  a  substantiality  that  is  par- 
tial is  not  complete,  is  implied  by  the  ascription  to  ghosts 
of  organs  of  sense.  The  Yakuts  leave  conspicuous  marks  to 
show  the  spirits  where  the  offerings  are  left ;  and  the  Indians 
of  Yucatan  think  "  that  the  soul  of  the  deceased  returns  to 
the  world,  and  in  order  that  on  leaving  the  tomb  it  may  not 
lose  the  way  to  the  domestic  hearth,  they  mark  the  path  from 
the  hut  to  the  tomb  with  chalk."  The  materiality  implied 
by  physical  vision,  is  similarly  ascribed  by  the  Nicobar  peo- 
ple, who  think  that  the  "  malignant  spirits  [of  the  dead] 
are  effectually  prevented  from  taking  their  abode  again  in 
the  village,  by  a  screen  made  of  pieces  of  cloth,  which 


THE  IDEAS  OP  SOULS,  GHOSTS,  SPIRITS,  DEMONS,  ETC.  175 

keeps  out  of  their  baneful  sight  the  place  where  the  houses 
stand." 

The  elaborated  doctrine  of  the  Egyptians  regarded  each 
person  as  made  up  of  several  separate  entities — soul,  spirit, 
ghost,  &c.  The  primary  one  was  a  partially-material  dupli- 
cate of  the  body.  M.  Maspero  writes: — "  Le  ka,  qui  j'appel- 
lerai  le  Double,  etait  comme  un  second  exemplaire  du  corps 
en  une  matiere  moins  dense  que  la  matiere  corporelle,  une 
projection  coloree  mais  aerienne  de  Findividu,  le  repro- 
duisant  trait  pour  trait,  .  .  .  le  tombeau  entier,  s'appelait 
la  maison  du  Double." 

The  Greek  conception  of  ghosts  was  of  allied  kind.  "  It 
is  only,"  says  Thirlwall,  "  after  their  strength  has  been  re- 
paired by  the  blood  of  a  slaughtered  victim,  that  they  recover 
reason  and  memory  for  a  time,  can  recognize  their  living 
friends,  and  feel  anxiety  for  those  they  have  left  on  earth." 
That  these  dwellers  in  Hades  have  some  substantiality,  is 
implied  both  by  the  fact  that  they  come  trooping  to  drink 
the  sacrificial  blood,  and  by  the  fact  that  Ulysses  keeps  them 
back  with  his  sword.  Moreover,  in  this  world  of  the  dead 
he  beholds  Tityus  having  his  liver  torn  by  vultures ;  speaks 
of  Agamemnon's  soul  as  "  shedding  the  warm  tear;  "  and 
describes  the  ghost  of  Sisyphus  as  sweating  from  his  efforts 
in  thrusting  up  the  still-gravitating  stone.  And  here  let 
me  quote  a  passage  from  the  Illiad,  showing  how  the  primi- 
tive notion  becomes  modified.  On  awaking  after  dreaming 
of,  and  vainly  trying  to  embrace,  Patroclus,  Achilles  says : — 
"  Ay  me,  there  remaineth  then  even  in  the  house  of  Hades, 
a  spirit  and  phantom  of  the  dead,  albeit  the  life  be  not  any- 
wise therein."  Yet,  being  described  as  speaking  and  lament- 
ing, the  ghost  of  Patroclus  is  conceived  as  having  the  ma- 
teriality implied  by  such  acts.  Thus,  in  the  mind  of  the 
Homeric  age,  the  dream,  while  continuing  to  furnish  proof 
of  an  after-existence,  furnished  experiences  which,  when 
reasoned  upon,  necessitated  an  alteration  in  the  idea  of  the 
other-self:  complete  substantiality  was  negatived. 


176  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Nor  do  the  conceptions  which  prevailed  among  the  He- 
brews appear  to  have  been  different.  We  find  ascribed,  now 
substantiality,  now  insubstantiality,  and  now  something 
between  the  two.  The  resuscitated  Christ  was  described  as 
having  wounds  that  admitted  of  tactual  examination;  and 
yet  as  passing  unimpeded  through  a  closed  door  or  through 
walls.  And  their  supernatural  beings  generally,  whether  re- 
vived dead  or  not,  were  similarly  conceived.  Here  angels 
dining  with  Abraham,  or  pulling  Lot  into  the  house,  ap- 
parently possess  complete  corporeity ;  there  both  angels  and 
demons  are  spoken  of  as  swarming  invisibly  in  the  surround- 
ing air,  thus  being  incorporeal;  while  elsewhere  they  are 
said  to  have  wings,  implying  locomotion  by  mechanical 
action,  and  are  represented  as  rubbing  against,  and  wearing 
out,  the  dresses  of  Rabbins  in  the  synagogue. 

Manifestly  the  stories  about  ghosts  universally  accepted 
among  ourselves  in  past  times,  involved  the  same  thought. 
The  ability  to  open  doors,  to  clank  chains  and  make  other 
noises,  implies  considerable  coherence  of  the  ghost's  sub- 
stance; and  this  coherence  must  have  been  assumed,  how- 
ever little  the  assumption  was  avowed.  Moreover,  the  still 
extant  belief  in  the  torture  of  souls  by  fire  similarly  pre- 
supposes some  kind  of  materiality. 

§  94.  As  implied  above,  we  find,  mingled  with  these 
ideas  of  semi-substantial  duplicates,  and  inconsistently  held 
along  with  them,  the  ideas  of  aeriform  and  shadowy  dupli- 
cates. The  contrast  between  the  dying  man  and  the  man 
just  dead,  has  naturally  led  to  a  conception  of  the  departed 
in  terms  of  the  difference:  each  marked  difference  generat- 
ing a  correlative  conception. 

The  heart  ceases  to  beat.  Is  then  the  heart  the  other- 
self  which  goes  away?  Some  races  think  it  is.  Bobadilla 
asked  the  Indians  of  Nicaragua — "  Do  those  who  go  up- 
wards, live  there  as  they  do  here,  with  the  same  body  and 
head  and  the  rest?  "  To  which  the  reply  was — "  Only  the 


THE  IDEAS  OF  SOULS,  GHOSTS,  SPIRITS,  DEMONS,  ETC.  177 

heart  goes  there."  And  further  inquiry  brought  out  a  con- 
fused idea  that  there  are  two  hearts,  and  that  "  that  heart 
which  goes  is  what  makes  them  live."  So,  too,  among  the 
Chancas  of  ancient  Peru,  Cieza  says,  soul  "  they  called 
/Sonccon,  a  word  which  also  means  heart."  More 

conspicuous  as  the  cessation  of  breathing  is  than  the  cessa- 
tion of  the  heart's  action,  it  leads  to  the  more  prevalent  identi- 
fication of  the  departed  other-self  with  the  departed  breath. 
Among  the  Central  Americans  this  identification  co-existed 
with  the  last.  To  one  of  Bobadilla's  questions  an  Indian 
replied — "  When  they  are  dying,  something  like  a  person 
called  yulio,  goes  off  their  mouth,  and  goes  there,  where 
that  man  and  woman  stay,  and  there  it  stays  like  a  person 
and  does  not  die,  and  the  body  remains  here."  That  the 
same  belief  has  been  generally  held  by  higher  races  is  too 
well  known  to  need  proof.  I  will  name  only  the  graphic 
presentation  of  it  in  illustrated  ecclesiastical  works  of  past 
times;  as  in  the  Mortilogus,  of  the  Prior  Conrad  Reitter, 
printed  in  1508,  which  contains  woodcuts  of  dying  men  out 
of  whose  mouths  smaller  figures  of  themselves  are  escaping, 
and  being  received,  in  one  case  by  an  angel,  andx  in  another 
by  a  devil.  Of  direct  identifications  of  the  soul 

with  the  shadow,  there  are  many  examples;  such  as  that 
of  the  Greenlanders,  who  "  believe  in  two  souls,  namely, 
the  shadow  and  the  breath."  It  will  suffice,  in  further  sup- 
port of  ancient  examples,  to  cite  the  modern  example  of  the 
Amazulu,  as  given  by  Bp.  Callaway.  Looking  at  the  facts 
from  the  missionary  point  of  view,  and  thus  inverting  the 
order  of  genesis,  he  says — "  Scarcely  anything  can  more 
clearly  prove  the  degradation  which  has  fallen  on  the  na- 
tives than  their  not  understanding  that  isitunzi  meant  the 
spirit,  and  not  merely  the  shadow  cast  by  the  body ;  for  there 
now  exists  among  them  the  strange  belief  that  the  dead  body 
casts  no  shadow." 

The  conceptions  of  the  other-self  thus  resulting,  tending 
to  supplant  the  conceptions  of  it  as  quite  substantial,  or  half 


178  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

substantial,  because  less  conspicuously  at  variance  with,  the 
evidence,  lead  to  observances  implying  the  belief  that  ghosts 
need  spaces  to  pass  through,  though  not  large  ones.  The 
Iroquois  leave  "  a  slight  opening  in  the  grave  for  it  "  [the 
soul]  to  re-enter;  "  in  Eraser  Island  (Great  Sandy  Island), 
Queensland  .  .  .  they  place  a  sheet  of  bark  over  the  corpse, 
near  the  surface,  to  leave  room,  as  they  say,  for  the  spirit  or 
ghost  to  move  about  and  come  up ;  "  and  in  other  cases,  with 
the  same  motive,  holes  are  bored  in  coffins.  Of  the  Ansayrii, 
Walpole  says — "  In  rooms  dedicated  to  hospitality,  several 
square  holes  are  left,  so  that  each  spirit  may  come  or  depart 
without  meeting  another." 

§  95.  Were  there  no  direct  evidence  that  conceptions  of 
the  other-self  are  thus  derived,  the  indirect  evidence  fur- 
nished by  language  would  suffice.  This  comes  to  us  from  all 
parts  of  the  world,  from  peoples  in  all  stages. 

Describing  the  Tasmanians,  Milligan  says — "  To  these 
guardian  spirits  they  give  the  generic  name  '  Warrawah/ 
an  aboriginal  term,  .  .  .  signifying  shade,  shadow,  ghost, 
or  apparition."  In  the  Aztec  language,  ehecatl  means  both 
air,  life,  and  soul.  The  l^ew  England  tribes  called  the  soul 
chemung,  the  shadow.  In  Quiche,  natub,  and  in  Esqui- 
maux, tarnak,  severally  express  both  these  ideas.  And  in 
the  Mohawk  dialect,  atouritz,  the  soul,  is  from  atoiirion,  to 
breathe.  Like  equivalences  have  been  pointed  out  in  the 
vocabularies  of  the  Algonquins,  the  Arawaks,  the  Abipones, 
the  Basutos.  That  the  speech  of  the  civilized  by  certain  of 
its  words  identifies  soul  with  shade,  and  by  others  identifies 
soul  with  breath,  is  a  familiar  fact.  I  need  not  here  repeat 
the  evidence  detailed  by  Mr.  Tylor,  proving  that  both  the 
Semitic  and  the  Aryan  languages  show  the  like  original  con- 
ceptions. 

§  96.  And  now  we  come  to  certain  derivative  concep- 
tions of  great  significance.  Let  us  take  first,  the  most  ob- 
vious. 


THE  IDEAS  OF  SOULS,  GHOSTS,  SPIRITS,  DEMONS,  ETC.   179' 

Quadrupeds  and  birds  are  observed  to  breathe,  as  men 
breathe.  If,  then,  a  man's  breath  is  that  other-self  which 
goes  away  at  death,  the  animal's  breath,  which  also  goes 
away  at  death,  must  be  its  other-self :  the  animal  has  a  ghost. 
Even  the  primitive  man,  who  reasons  but  a  step  beyond  the 
facts  directly  thrust  on  his  attention,  cannot  avoid  drawing 
this  conclusion.  And  similarly  where  there  exists  the  belief 
that  men's  shadows  are  their  souls,  it  is  inferred  the  shadows 
of  animals,  which  follow  them  and  mimic  them  in  like  ways, 
must  be  the  souls  of  the  animals. 

The  savage  in  a  low  stage,  stops  here;  but  along  with 
advance  in  reasoning  power  there  is  revealed  a  further  im- 
plication. Though  unlike  men  and  familiar  animals  in  not 
having  any  perceptible  breath  (unless,  indeed,  perfume  is  re- 
garded as  breath),  plants  are  like  men  and  animals  in  so  far 
that  they  grow  and  reproduce :  they  flourish,  decay,  and  die, 
after  leaving  offspring.  But  plants  cast  shadows;  and  as 
their  branches  sway  in  the  gale,  their  shadows  exhibit  corre- 
sponding agitations.  Hence,  consistency  demands  an  exten- 
sion of  the  belief  in  duality:  plants,  too,  have  souls.  This 
inference,  drawn  by  somewhat  advanced  races,  as  the  Dyaks, 
the  Karens,  and  some  Polynesians,  leads  among  them  to  pro- 
pitiate plant-spirits.  And  it  persists  in  well-known  forms 
through  succeeding  stages  of  social  evolution. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Having  gone  thus  far,  advancing 
intelligence  has  to  go  further.  For  shadows  are  possessed 
not  by  men,  animals,  and  plants  only:  other  things  have 
them.  Hence,  if  shadows  are  souls,  these  other  things  must 
have  souls.  And  now  mark  that  we  do  not  read  of  this 
belief  among  the  lowest  races.  It  does  not  exist  among 
the  Fuegians,  the  Australians,  the  Tasmanians,  the  Anda- 
manese,  the  Bushmen;  or,  if  it  does,  it  is  not  sufficiently 
pronounced  to  have  drawn  the  attention  of  travellers.  But 
it  is  a  belief  that  arises  in  the  more  intelligent  races,  and 
develops.  The  Karens  think  "  every  natural  object  has  its 
lord  or  god,  in  the  signification  of  its  possessor  or  presiding 


180  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

spirit:  "  even  inanimate  things  that  are  useful,  such  as  in- 
struments, have  each  of  them  its  La  or  spirit.  The  Chip- 
pewas  "  believe  that  animals  have  souls,  and  even  that  in- 
organic substances,  such  as  kettles,  etc.,  have  in  them  a  simi- 
lar essence."  By  the  Fijians  who,  as  we  have  seen  (§  41), 
are  among  the  most  rational  of  barbarians,  this  doctrine  is 
fully  elaborated.  They  ascribe  souls  "  not  only  to  all  man- 
kind, but  to  animals,  plants,  and  even  houses,  canoes,  and 
all  mechanical  contrivances;  "  and  this  ascription  is  con- 
sidered by  T.  Williams  to  have  the  origin  here  alleged.  He 
says — "  probably  this  doctrine  of  shadows  has  to  do  with  the 
notion  of  inanimate  objects  having  spirits."  Peoples  in  more 
advanced  states  have  drawn  the  same  conclusion.  The 
Mexicans  "  supposed  that  every  object  had  a  god;  "  and  that 
its  possession  of  a  shadow  was  the  basis  for  this  supposition, 
we  may  reasonably  conclude  on  observing  the  like  belief 
avowedly  thus  explained  by  a  people  adjacent  to  the  Chib- 
chas.  Piedrahita  writes: — 

The  Laches  "worshipped  every  stone  as  a  god,  as  they  said  that 
they  had  all  been  men,  and  that  all  men  were  converted  into  stones 
after  death,  and  that  a  day  was  coming  when  all  stones  would  be 
raised  as  men.  They  also  worshipped  their  own  shadow,  so  that 
they  always  had  their  god  with  them,  and  saw  him  when  it  was  day- 
light. And  though  they  knew  that  the  shadow  was  produced  by  the 
light  and  an  interposed  object,  they  replied  that  it  was  done  by  the 
Sun  to  give  them  gods.  .  .  .  And  when  the  shadows  of  trees  and 
stones  were  pointed  out  to  them,  it  had  no  effect,  as  they  considered 
the  shadows  of  the  trees  to  be  gods  of  the  trees,  and  the  shadows  of 
the  stones  the  gods  of  the  stones,  and  therefore  the  gods  of  their 
gods." 

These  facts,  and  especially  the  last,  go  far  to  show  that 
the  belief  in  object-souls,  is  a  belief  reached  at  a  certain  stage 
of  intellectual  evolution  as  a  corollary  from  a  pre-established 
belief  respecting  the  souls  of  men.  Without  waiting  for  the 
more  special  proofs  to  be  hereafter  given,  the  reader  will 
see  what  was  meant  in  §  65,  by  denying  that  the  primitive 
man  could  have  so  retrograded  to  an  intelligence  below  that 


THE  IDEAS  OP  SOULS,  GHOSTS,  SPIRITS,  DEMONS,  ETC.   181 

of  brutes,  as  originally  to  confuse  the  animate  with  the  in- 
animate ;  and  he  will  see  some  ground  for  the  accompanying 
assertion  that  such  confusion  of  them  as  his  developing 
conceptions  show,  he  is  betrayed  into  by  inference  from  a 
natural  but  erroneous  belief  previously  arrived  at. 

§  97.  Returning  from  this  parenthetical  remark,  it  will 
be  useful,  before  closing,  to  note  the  various  classes  of  souls 
and  spirits  which  this  system  of  interpretation  originates. 

We  have,  first,  the  souls  of  deceased  parents  and  rela- 
tives. These,  taking  in  the  minds  of  survivors  vivid  shapes, 
are  thus  distinguished  from  the  souls  of  ancestors;  which, 
according  to  their  remoteness,  pass  into  vagueness:  so 
implying  ideas  of  souls  individualized  in  different  de- 
grees. We  have,  next,  the  wandering  doubles  of 
persons  who  are  asleep,  or  more  profoundly  insensible.  That 
these  are  recognized  as  a  class,  is  shown  by  Schweinfurth's 
account  of  the  Bongo;  who  think  that  old  people  "  may 
apparently  be  lying  calmly  in  their  huts,  whilst  in  reality 
they  are  taking  counsel  with  the  spirits  of  mischief  "  in  the 
woods.  Further,  we  have,  in  some  cases,  the  souls 
of  waking  persons  which  have  temporarily  left  them:  in- 
stance the  belief  of  the  Karens,  that  "  every  human  being 
has  his  guardian  spirit  walking  by  his  side,  or  wandering 
away  in  search  of  dreamy  adventures;  and  if  too  long  ab- 
sent, he  must  be  called  back  with  offerings."  The  recog- 
nition of  such  distinctions  is  clearly  shown  us  by  the  Mala- 
gasy, who  have  different  names  for  the  ghost  of  a  living 
person  and  the  ghost  of  a  dead  person. 

Another  classification  of  souls  or  spirits  is  to  be  noted. 
There  are  those  of  friends  and  those  of  enemies — those  be- 
longing to  members  of  the  tribe,  and  those  belonging  to 
members  of  other  tribes.  These  groups  are  not  completely 
coincident ;  for  there  are  the  ghosts  of  bad  men  within  the 
tribe,  as  well  as  the  ghosts  of  foes  outside  of  it;  and  there 
are  in  some  cases  the  malignant  spirits  of  those  who  have 
13 


182  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

remained  unburied.  But,  speaking  generally,  the  good  and 
the  bad  spirits  have  these  origins;  and  the  amity  or  the  en- 
mity ascribed  to  them  after  death,  is  but  a  continuance  of 
the  amity  or  the  enmity  shown  by  them  during  life. 

We  must  add  to  these  the  souls  of  other  things — beasts, 
plants,  and  inert  objects.  The  Mexicans  ascribed  the  "  bless- 
ing of  immortality  to  the  souls  of  brutes;  "  and  the  Mala- 
gasy think  the  ghosts  "  of  both  men  and  beasts  reside  in  a 
great  mountain  in  the  south."  But  though  animal-souls  are 
not  uncommonly  recognized;  and  though  Fijians  and  others 
believe  that  the  souls  of  destroyed  utensils  go  to  the  other 
world;  yet  souls  of  these  classes  are  not  commonly  regarded 
as  interfering  in  human  affairs. 

§  98.  It  remains  only  to  note  the  progressive  differentia- 
tion of  the  conceptions  of  body  and  soul,  which  the  facts 
show  us.  As,  in  the  last  chapter,  we  saw  that,  along  with  the 
growth  of  intelligence,  the  idea  of  that  permanent  insensi- 
bility we  call  death  is  gradually  differentiated  from  the  ideas 
of  those  temporary  insensibilities  which  simulate  it,  till  at 
length  it  is  marked  off  as  radically  unlike;  so,  here,  we  see 
that  the  ideas  of  a  substantial  self  and  an  unsubstantial  self, 
acquire  their  strong  contrast  by  degrees;  and  that  increas- 
ing knowledge,  joined  with  a  growing  critical  faculty,  de- 
termine the  change. 

Thus  when  the  Basutos,  conceiving  the  other-self  as  quite 
substantial,  think  that  if  a  man  walks  on  the  river-bank,  a 
crocodile  may  seize  his  shadow  in  the  water  and  draw  him 
in ;  we  may  see  that  the  irreconcilability  of  their  ideas  is  so 
great,  that  advancing  physical  knowledge  must  modify  them 
—must  cause  the  other-self  to  be  conceived  as  less  substan- 
tial. Or  again,  if,  on  the  one  hand,  the  Fijian  ascribes  to 
the  soul  such  materiality  that,  during  its  journey  after  death, 
*it  is  liable  to  be  seized  by  one  of  the  gods  and  killed  by 
smashing  against  a  stone;  and  if,  on  the  other  hand,  he  holds 
that  each  man  has  two  souls,  his  shadow  and  his  reflection; 


THE  IDEAS  OP  SOULS,  GHOSTS,  SPIRITS,  DEMONS,  ETC.   183 

it  is  manifest  that  his  beliefs  are  so  incongruous  that  criti- 
cism must  ultimately  change  them.  Consciousness  of  the 
incongruity,  becoming  clearer  as  thought  becomes  more  de- 
liberate, leads  to  successive  compromises.  The  second  self, 
originally  conceived  as  equally  substantial  with  the  first, 
grows  step  by  step  less  substantial :  now  it  is  semi-solid,  now 
it  is  aeriform,  now  it  is  ethereal.  And  this  stage  finally 
reached,  is  one  in  which  there  cease  to  be  ascribed  any  of 
the  properties  by  which  we  know  existence:  there  remains 
only  the  assertion  of  an  existence  that  is  wholly  undefined. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    IDEAS    OF    ANOTHER    LIFE. 

§  99.  BELIEF  in  re-animation  implies  belief  in  a  subse- 
quent life.  The  primitive  man,  incapable  of  deliberate 
thought,  and  without  language  fit  for  deliberate  thinking, 
has  to  conceive  this  as  best  he  may.  Hence  a  chaos  of  ideas 
concerning  the  after-state  of  the  dead.  Among  tribes  who 
say  that  death  is  annihilation,  we  yet  commonly  find  such 
inconsequent  beliefs  as  those  of  some  Africans  visited  by 
Schweinfurth,  who  shunned  certain  caves  from  dread  of  the 
evil  spirits  of  fugitives  who  had  died  in  them. 

Incoherent  as  the  notions  of  a  future  life  are  at  first,  we 
have  to  note  their  leading  traits,  and  the  stages  of  their  de- 
velopment into  greater  coherence.  The  belief  is  originally 
qualified  and  partial.  In  the  last  chapter  we  saw  that  some 
think  resuscitation  depends  on  the  treatment  of  the  corpse — 
that  destruction  of  it  causes  annihilation.  Moreover,  the 
second  life  may  be  brought  to  a  violent  end :  the  dead  man's 
double  may  be  killed  afresh  in  battle ;  or  may  be  destroyed 
on  its  way  to  the  land  of  the  dead;  or  may  be  devoured  by 
the  gods.  Further,  there  is  in  some  cases  a  caste-limitation : 
in  Tonga  it  is  supposed  that  only  the  chiefs  have  souls.  Else- 
where, resuscitation  is  said  to  depend  on  conduct  and  its  in- 
cidental results.  Some  races  think  another  life  is  earned 
by  bravery ;  as  do  the  Comanches,  who  anticipate  it  for  good 
men — those  who  are  daring  in  taking  scalps  and  stealing 

horses.    Conversely,  "  a  mild  and  unwarlike  tribe  of  Guate- 

184 


THE  IDEAS  OF  ANOTHER  LIFE.  185 

mala  .  .  .  were  persuaded  that  to  die  by  any  other  than  a 
natural  death,  was  to  forfeit  all  hope  of  life  hereafter,  and 
therefore  left  the  bodies  of  the  slain  to  the  beasts  and  vul- 
tures." Or,  again,  revival  is  contingent  on  the  pleasure  of 
the  gods;  as  among  the  ancient  Aryans,  who  prayed  for 
another  life  and  made  sacrifices  to  obtain  it.  And  there  is 
in  many  cases  a  tacit  supposition  that  the  second  life  is  ended 
by  a  second  and  final  death. 

Before  otherwise  considering  the  primitive  conception  of 
a  future  life,  we  will  glance  at  this  last  trait — its  duration. 

§  100.  One  of  the  experiences  suggesting  another  life, 
is  also  one  of  the  experiences  suggesting  a  limit  to  it ;  name- 
ly, the  appearance  of  the  dead  in  dreams.  Sir  John  Lubbock 
has  been,  I  believe,  the  first  to  point  out  this.  Manifestly 
the  dead  persons  recognized  in  dreams,  must  be  persons  who 
were  known  to  the  dreamers;  and  consequently,  the  long 
dead,  ceasing  to  be  dreamt  of,  cease  to  be  thought  of  as  still 
existing.  Savages  who,  like  the  Manganjas,  "  expressly 
ground  their  belief  in  a  future  life  on  the  fact  that  their 
friends  visit  them  in  their  sleep;  "  naturally  draw  the  infer- 
ence that  when  their  friends  cease  to  visit  them  in  their  sleep, 
they  have  ceased  to  be.  Hence  the  contrast  which  Sir  John 
Lubbock  quotes  from  Du  Chaillu.  Ask  a  negro  "  where  is 
the  spirit  of  his  great-grandfather,  he  says  he  does  not  know; 
it  is  done.  Ask  him  about  the  spirit  of  his  father  or  brother 
who  died  yesterday,  then  he  is  full  of  fear  and  terror."  And 
as  we  shall  hereafter  see,  when  dealing  with  another  ques- 
tion, the  evidence  furnished  by  dreams  establishes  in  the 
minds  of  the  Amazulu,  a  like  marked  distinction  between 
the  souls  of  the  lately  dead  and  the  souls  of  the  long  dead ; 
which  they  think  have  died  utterly. 

How  the  notion  of  a  temporary  after-life  grows  into  the 
notion  of  an  enduring  after-life,  we  must  leave  unconsidered. 
For  present  purposes  it  suffices  to  point  out  that  the  notion 
of  an  enduring  after-life  is  reached  through  stages. 


186  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

§  101.  What  is  the  character  of  this  after-life:  here- 
believed  in  vaguely  and  in  a  variable  way ;  here  believed  in 
as  lasting  for  a  time;  here  believed  in  as  permanent? 

Sundry  of  the  funeral  rites  described  in  a  foregoing 
chapter,  imply  that  the  life  which  goes  on  after  death  is 
supposed  to  differ  in  nothing  from  this  life.  The  Chinooks 
assert  that  at  night  the  dead  "  awake  and  get  up  to  search 
for  food."  Xo  doubt  it  is  with  a  like  belief  in  the  necessity 
for  satisfying  their  material  wants,  that  the  Comanches 
think  the  dead  "  are  permitted  to  visit  the  earth  at  night, 
but  must  return  at  daylight  " — a  superstition  reminding  us 
of  one  still  current  in  Europe.  Among  South  American 
tribes,  too,  the  second  life  is  conceived  as  an  unvaried  con- 
tinuation of  the  first:  death  being,  as  the  Yucatan  Indians 
say,  "  merely  one  of  the  accidents  of  life."  The  Tupis 
buried  the  dead  body  in  the  house  "  in  a  sitting  posture 
with  food  before  it;  for  there  were  some  who  believed  that 
the  spirit  went  to  sport  among  the  mountains,  and  returned 
there  to  eat  and  to  take  rest." 

Where  the  future  life  is  thought  of  as  divided  from  the 
present  by  a  more  decided  break,  we  still  find  it  otherwise 
contrasted  in  little  or  nothing.  What  is  said  of  the  Fijians 
may  be  said  of  others.  After  death  they  "  plant,  live  in 
families,  fight,  and  in  short  do  much  as  people  in  this 
world."  Let  us  note  the  general  agreement  on  this  point. 

§  102.  The  provisions  they  count  upon,  differ  from  the 
provisions  they  have  been  accustomed  to,  only  in  being 
better  and  more  abundant.  The  Innuits  expect  to  feast  on 
reindeer-meat;  after  death  the  Creek  goes  where  "  game  is 
plenty  and  goods  very  cheap,  where  corn  grows  all  the  year 
round  and  the  springs  of  pure  water  are  never  dried  up;  " 
the  Comanches  look  forward  to  hunting  buffaloes  which  are 
"abundant  and  fat;"  while  the  Patagonians  hope  "to 
enjoy  the  happiness  of  being  eternally  drunk."  The  con- 
ception differs  elsewhere  only  as  the  food,  etc.,  differs.  The 


THE  IDEAS  OF  ANOTHER  LIFE.  187 

people  of  the  New  Hebrides  believe  that  in  the  next  life 
"  the  cocoa-nuts  and  the  bread-fruit  are  finer  in  quality,  and 
so  abundant  in  quantity  as  never  to  be  exhausted."  Arriaga 
says  that  the  Peruvians  "  do  not  know,  either  in  this  life  or 
in  the  other,  any  greater  happiness  than  to  have  a  good 
farm  wherefrom  to  eat  and  to  drink."  And  pastoral  peoples 
show  a  kindred  adjustment  of  belief:  the  Todas  think  that 
after  death  their  buffaloes  join  them,  to  supply  milk  as 
before. 

With  like  food  and  drink  there  go  like  occupations.  The 
Tasmanians  expected  "  to  pursue  the  chase  with  unwearied 
ardour  and  unfailing  success."  Besides  killing  unlimited 
game  in  their  heaven,  the  Dakotahs  look  forward  to  "  war 
with  their  former  enemies."  And,  reminded  as  we  thus  are 
of  the  daily  fighting  and  feasting  anticipated  by  the  Scan- 
dinavians, we  are  shown  the  prevalence  of  such  ideas  among 
peoples  remote  in  habitat  and  race.  To  see  how  vivid  these 
ideas  are,  we  must  recall  the  observances  they  entail. 

§  103.  Books  of  travel  have  familiarized  most  readers 
with  the  custom  of  burying  a  dead  man's  movables  with  him. 
This  custom  elaborates  as  social  development  goes  through 
its  earlier  stages.  Here  are  a  few  illustrations,  joined  with 
the  constructions  we  must  put  upon  them. 

The  dead  savage,  having  to  hunt  and  to  fight,  must  be 
armed.  Hence  the  deposit  of  weapons  and  implements  with 
the  corpse.  The  Tongous  races  have  these,  with  other  be- 
longings, "  placed  on  their  grave,  to  be  ready  for  service  the 
moment  they  awake  from  what  they  consider  to  be  their 
temporary  repose."  And  a  like  course  is  followed  by  the 
Kalmucks,  the  Esquimaux,  the  Iroquois,  the  Araucanians, 
the  Inland  Xegroes,  the  Xagas,  and  by  tribes,  savage  and 
semi-civilized,  too  numerous  to  mention:  some  of  whom, 
too,  recognizing  the  kindred  needs  of  women  and  children, 
bury  with  women  their  domestic  appliances  and  with  chil- 
dren their  toys. 


188  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

The  departed  other-self  will  need  clothes.  Hence  the 
Abipones  "  hang  a  garment  from  a  tree  near  the  place  of 
interment,  for  him  [the  dead  man]  to  put  on  if  he  chooses 
to  come  out  of  the  grave;  "  and  hence  the  Dahomans,  along 
with  other  property,  bury  with  the  deceased  "  a  piece  of  cloth 
as  a  change  of  raiment  when  arriving  in  dead-land."  This 
providing  of  wearing  apparel  (sometimes  their  "  best  robes  " 
in  which  they  are  wrapped  at  burial,  sometimes  an  annual 
supply  of  fresh  clothes  placed  on  their  skeletons,  as  among 
the  Patagonians)  goes  along  with  the  depositing  of  jewels 
and  other  valued  things.  Often  interment  of  the  deceased's 
"  goods  "  with  him  is  specified  generally;  as  in  the  case  of 
the  Samoyeds,  the  Western  Australians,  the  Damaras,  the 
Inland  Negroes,  the  New  Zealanders.  With  the  dead  Pata- 
gonian  were  left  whatever  "  the  deceased  had  while  alive;  " 
with  the  Naga,  "  any  article  to  which  he  or  she  may  have 
been  particularly  attached  during  life;  "  with  the  Guiana 
people,  "  the  chief  treasures  which  they  possessed  in  life;  " 
with  the  Papuan  of  New  Guinea,  his  "  arms  and  orna- 
ments; "  with  a  Peruvian  Ynca,  "  his  plate  and  jewels;  " 
with  the  Ancient  Mexican,  "  his  garments,  precious  stones," 
etc. ;  with  the  Chibcha,  his  gold,  emeralds,  and  other  treas- 
ures. With  the  body  of  the  late  Queen  of  Madagascar  were 
placed  "  an  immense  number  of  silk  dresses,  native  silk 
cloths,  ornaments,  glasses,  a  table  and  chairs,  a  box  con- 
taining 11,000  dollars  .  .  .  and  many  other  things."  By 
the  Mishmis,  all  the  things  necessary  for  a  person  whilst  liv- 
ing are  placed  in  a  house  built  over  the  grave.  And  in  Old 
Calabar,  a  house  is  built  on  the  beach  to  contain  the  de- 
ceased's possessions,  "  together  with  a  bed,  that  the  ghost 
may  not  sleep  upon  the  floor."  To  such  an  extent  is  this 
provision  for  the  future  life  of  the  deceased  carried,  as,  in 
many  cases,  to  entail  great  evil  on  the  survivors.  Among  the 
Fantees  "  a  funeral  is  usually  absolute  ruin  to  a  poor  family." 
The  Dyaks,  besides  the  deceased's  property,  bury  with  him 
sometimes  large  sums  of  money,  and  other  valuables;  so  that 


THE  IDEAS  OF  ANOTHER  LIFE.  189 

"  it  frequently  happens  that  a  father  unfortunate  in  his  fam- 
ily, is  by  the  death  of  his  children  reduced  to  poverty."  And 
in  some  extinct  societies  of  America,  nothing  but  the  de- 
ceased's land,  which  they  were  unable  to  put  into  his  grave, 
remained  for  his  widow  and  children. 

Carrying  out  consistently  this  conception  of  the  second 
life,  uncivilized  peoples  infer  that,  not  only  his  inanimate 
possessions,  but  also  his  animate  possessions,  will  be  needed 
by  the  deceased.  Hence  the  slaughter  of  his  live  stock. 
With  the  Kirghiz  chief  are  deposited  "  his  favourite  horses," 
as  also  with  the  Yakut,  the  Comanche,  the  Patagonian ;  with 
the  Borghoo,  his  horse  and  dog;  with  the  Bedouin,  his 
camel;  with  the  Damara,  his  cattle;  with  the  Toda,  in 
former  times,  "  his  entire  herd;  "  and  the  Vatean,  when 
about  to  die,  has  his  pigs  first  tied  to  his  wrist  by  a  cord  and 
then  killed.  Where  the  life  led,  instead  of  having  being 
predatory  or  pastoral,  has  been  agricultural,  the  same  idea 
prompts  a  kindred  practice.  Among  the  Indians  of  Peru, 
writes  Tschudi,  "  a  small  bag  with  cocoa,  maize,  quinua, 
etc.,  is  laid  beside  the  dead,  that  they  might  have  where- 
withal to  sow  the  fields  in  the  other  world." 

§  104.  Logically  developed,  the  primitive  belief  implies 
something  more — it  implies  that  the  deceased  will  need  not 
only  his  weapons  and  implements,  his  clothing,  ornaments, 
and  other  movables,  together  with  his  domestic  animals ;  but 
also  that  he  will  want  human  companionship  and  services. 
The  attendance  he  had  before  death  must  be  renewed  after 
death. 

Hence  the  immolations  which  have  prevailed,  and- still 
prevail,  so  widely.  The  custom  of  sacrificing  wives,  and 
slaves,  and  friends,  develops  as  society  advances  through  its 
earlier  stages,  and  the  theory  of  another  life  becomes  more 
definite.  Among  the  Fuegians,  the  Andamanese, 

the  Australians,  the  Tasmanians,  with  their  rudimentary 
social  organizations,  wives  are  not  killed  to  accompany  dead 


190  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

husbands;  or  if  they  are,  the  practice  is  not  general  enough 
to  be  specified  in  the  accounts  given  of  them.  But  it  is 
a  practice  shown  us  by  more  advanced  peoples :  in  Polynesia, 
by  the  New  Caledonians,  by  the  Fijians,  and  occasionally  by 
the  less  barbarous  Tongans — in  America,  by  the  Chinooks, 
the  Caribs,  the  Dakotahs — in  Africa,  by  the  Congo  people, 
the  Inland  Negroes,  the  Coast  Negroes,  and  most  extensively 
by  the  Dahomans.  To  attend  the  dead  in  the  other 

world,  captives  taken  in  war  are  sacrificed  by  the  Caribs,  the 
Dakotahs,  the  Chinooks ;  and  without  enumerating  the  sav- 
age and  semi-savage  peoples  who  do  the  like,  I  will  only 
further  instance  the  survival  of  the  usage  among  the  Ho- 
meric Greeks,  when  slaying  (though  with  another  assigned 
motive)  twelve  Trojans  at  the  funeral  pyre  of  Patroclus. 
Similarly  with  domestics:  a  dead  man's  slaves  are  slain  by 
the  Kyans  and  the  Milanaus  of  Borneo;  the  Zulus  kill  a 
king's  valets;  the  Inland  Negroes  kill  his  eunuchs  to  ac- 
company his  wives;  the  Coast  Negroes  poison  or  decapitate 
his  confidential  servants.  Further,  there  is  in  some 

cases  an  immolation  of  friends.  In  Fiji,  a  leading  man's 
chief  friend  is  sacrificed  to  accompany  him;  and  among 
the  sanguinary  peoples  of  tropical  Africa,  a  like  custom 
exists. 

It  was,  however,  in  the  considerably-advanced  societies 
of  ancient  America  that  such  arrangements  for  the  future 
convenience  of  the  dead  were  carried  out  with  the  greatest 
care.  In  Mexico,  every  great  man's  chaplain  was  slain,  that 
he  might  perform  for  him  the  religious  ceremonies  in  the 
next  life  as  in  this.  Among  the  Indians  of  Vera  Paz,  "  when 
a  lord  was  dying,  they  immediately  killed  as  many  slaves 
as  he  had,  that  they  might  precede  him  and  prepare  the 
house  for  their  master."  Besides  other  attendants,  the  Mexi- 
cans "  sacrified  some  of  the  irregularly-formed  men,  whom 
the  king  had  collected  in  his  palaces  for  his  entertainment, 
in  order  that  they  might  give  him  the  same  pleasure  in  the 
other  world."  Of  course,  such  elaborate  precautions  that 


THE  IDEAS  OF  ANOTHER  LIFE.  191 

the  deceased  should  not  lack  hereafter  any  advantages  he 
had  enjoyed  here,  entailed  enormous  bloodshed.  By  the 
Mexicans  "  the  number  of  the  victims  was  proportioned  to 
the  grandeur  of  the  funeral,  and  amounted  sometimes,  as 
several  historians  affirm,  to  200."  In  Peru,  when  an  Ynca 
died,  "  his  attendants  and  favourite  concubines,  amounting 
sometimes,  it  is  said,  to  a  thousand,  were  immolated  on  his 
tomb."  And  until  the  reign  of  Soui-Zin,  when  a  Japanese 
emperor  died  "  on  enterrait  avec  lui  tous  ceux  qui,  de  son 
vivant,  approchaient  sa  personne." 

The  intensity  of  the  faith  prompting  such  customs,  we 
shall  the  better  conceive  on  learning  that  the  victims  are 
often  willing,  and  occasionally  anxious,  to  die.  Among  the 
Guaranis  in  old  times,  some  faithful  followers  "  sacrificed 
themselves  at  the  grave  of  a  chief."  A  dead  Ynca's  wives 
"  volunteered  to  be  killed,  and  their  number  was  often  such 
that  the  officers  were  obliged  to  interfere,  saying  that  enough 
had  gone  at  present;  "  and  "  some  of  the  women,  in  order 
that  their  faithful  service  might  be  held  in  more  esteem, 
finding  that  there  was  delay  in  completing  the  tomb,  would 
hang  themselves  up  by  their  own  hair,  and  so  kill  them- 
selves." Similarly  of  the  Chibchas,  Simon  says  that  with 
a  corpse  "  they  interred  the  wives  and  slaves  who  most 
wished  it."  Of  Tonquin  in  past  times  Tavernier  wrote — 
"  Many  Lords  and  Ladies  of  the  Court  will  needs  be  buried 
alive  with  him  [the  dead  king]  for  to  serve  him  in  the  places 
where  he  is  to  go."  In  Africa  it  is  the  same  even  now. 
Among  the  Yorubans,  at  the  funeral  of  a  great  man,  "  many 
of  his  friends  swallow  poison,"  and  are  entombed  with  him. 
Formerly  in  Congo,  "  when  the  king  was  buried  a  dozen 
young  maids  leapt  into  the  grave  .  .  .  and  were  buried 
alive  to  serve  him  in  the  other  world.  These  maids  were 
then  so  eager  for  this  service  to  their  deceased  prince,  that, 
in  striving  who  should  be  first,  they  killed  one  another." 
And  in  Dahomey,  immediately  the  king  dies,  his  wives 
begin  to  destroy  all  his  furniture  and  things  of  value,  as 


192  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

well  as  their  own ;  and  to  murder  one  another.  On  one  oc- 
casion 285  of  the  women  were  thus  killed  before  the  new 
king  could  stop  it.* 

These  immolations  sometimes  follow  the  deaths  of  the 
young.  Kane  says  a  Chinook  chief  wished  to  kill  his  wife, 
that  she  might  accompany  his  dead  son  to  the  other  world; 
and  in  Aneiteum,  on  the  death  of  a  beloved  child,  the  mother, 
aunt,  or  grandmother,  is  strangled  that  she  may  accompany 
it  to  the  world  of  spirits. 

As  further  qualifying  the  interpretation  to  be  put  on 
sanguinary  customs  of  this  kind,  we  must  bear  in  mind  that 
not  only  are  inferiors  and  dependents  sacrificed  at  a  funeral, 
with  or  without  their  assent,  but  that  the  superiors  them- 
selves in  some  cases  decide  to  die.  Fiji  is  not  the  only  place 
where  people  advancing  in  years  are  buried  alive  by  their 
dutiful  children.  The  like  practice  holds  in  Vate,  where  an 
old  chief  requests  his  sons  to  destroy  him  in  this  way. 

§  105.  Conceived  as  like  the  first  in  its  needs  and  occu- 
pations and  pleasures,  the  second  life  is  conceived  as  like 
the  first  in  its  social  arrangements.  Subordination,  both 
domestic  and  public,  is  expected  to  be  the  same  hereafter 
as  here.  A  few  specific  statements  to  this  effect  may  be  added 
to  the  foregoing  implications. 

Cook  states  that  the  Tahitians  divided  the  departed  into 
classes  similar  to  those  existing  among  themselves;  or,  as 
Ellis  re-states  it,  "  those  who  were  kings  or  Areois  in  this 
world  were  the  same  there  for  ever."  The  creed  of  the 
Tongans,  too,  represents  deceased  persons  as  organized  after 
the  system  of  ranks  existing  in  Tonga.  The  like  holds  in 
Fiji ;  where  it  "  is  most  repugnant  to  the  native  mind  " 

*  We  have  here  a  cine  to  the  anomalous  fact  that,  in  sundry  of  these  Afri- 
can kingdoms,  everything  is  given  over  to  plunder  and  murder  after  a  king's 
death.  The  case  of  Ashantcc,  where  the  relatives  of  the  king  commit  the  de- 
struction, shows  us  that  it  is  all  a  sequence  of  the  supposed  duty  to  go  and 
serve  the  king  in  another  life. 


THE  IDEAS  OF  ANOTHER  LIFE.  193 

that  a  chief  should  appear  in  the  other  world  unattended. 
The  Chibchas  thought  that  in  the  future  life,  they  would 
"  be  attended  to  by  their  servants,  as  in  the  present."  So, 
too,  is  it  among  the  Hill-tribes  of  India:  the  heaven  of  the 
Karens  "  has  its  rulers  and  its  subjects;  "  and  in  the  Kookie 
heaven,  the  ghost  of  every  enemy  a  man  has  slain  becomes 
his  slave.  With  African  races  the  like  holds.  According 
to  the  creed  of  the  Dahomans,  classes  are  the  same  in  the 
second  life  as  in  the  first.  By  Kaffirs  the  political  and  social 
relations  after  death  are  supposed  to  remain  as  before.  And 
a  kindred  conception  is  implied  among  the  Akkra  Negroes, 
by  their  assertion  that  in  the  rainy  season,  their  guardian 
gods  go  on  a  visit  to  the  supreme  god. 

That  this  analogy  persists  in  the  conceptions  of  higher 
races,  scarcely  needs  saying.  The  legend  of  the  descent  of 
Ishtar,  the  Assyrian  Venus,  shows  us  that  the  residence  of 
the  Assyrian  dead  had,  like  Assyria,  its  despotic  ruler,  with 
officers  levying  tribute.  So,  too,  in  the  under- 

world of  the  Greeks.  We  have  the  dread  Aides,  with  his 
wife  Persephone,  as  rulers;  we  have  Minos  "giving  sen- 
tence from  his  throne  to  the  dead,  while  they  sat  and  stood 
around  the  prince,  asking  his  dooms ;  "  and  Achilles,  is  thus 
addressed  by  Ulysses: — "  For  of  old,  in  the  days  of  thy  life, 
we  Argives  gave  thee  one  honour  with  the  gods,  and  now 
thou  art  a  great  prince  here  among  the  dead."  And  while 
departed  men  are  thus  under  political  and  social  relations 
like  those  of  living  men,  so  are  the  celestials.  Zeus  stands 
to  the  rest  "  exactly  in  the  same  relation  that  an  absolute 
monarch  does  to  the  aristocracy  of  which  he  is  the 
head."  !N"or  did  Hebrew  ideas  of  another  life, 

when  they  arose,  fail  to  yield  like  analogies.  Originally 
meaning  simply  the  grave,  or,  in  a  vague  way,  the  place  or 
state  of  the  dead,  Sheol,  when  acquiring  the  more  definite 
meaning  of  a  miserable  place  for  the  dead,  a  Hebrew  Hades, 
and  afterwards  developing  into  a  place  of  torture,  Gehenna, 
introduces  us  to  a  form  of  diabolical  government  having 


194:  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

gradations.  And  though,  as  the  conception  of  life  in  the 
Hebrew  heaven  elaborated,  the  ascribed  arrangements  did 
not,  like  those  of  the  Greeks,  parallel  terrestrial  arrange- 
ments domestically,  they  did  politically.  As  some  com- 
mentators express  it,  there  is  implied  a  "  court  "  of  celestial 
beings.  Sometimes,  as  in  the  case  of  Ahab,  God  is  repre- 
sented as  taking  council  with  his  attendants  and  accepting 
a  suggestion.  There  is  a  heavenly  army,  spoken  of  as  divided 
into  legions.  There  are  archangels  set  over  different  ele- 
ments and  over  different  peoples:  these  deputy-gods  being, 
in  so  far,  analogous  to  the  minor  gods  of  the  Greek  Pantheon. 
The  chief  difference  is  that  their  powers  are  more  dis- 
tinctly deputed,  and  their  subordination  greater.  Though 
here,  too,  the  subordination  is  incomplete:  we  read  of 
wars  in  heaven,  and  of  rebellious  angels  cast  down  to  Tar- 
tarus. That  this  parallelism  continued  down  to 
late  Christian  times,  is  abundantly  shown.  In  1407,  Petit, 
professor  of  theology  in  the  University  of  Paris,  represented 
God  as  a  feudal  sovereign,  Heaven  as  a  feudal  kingdom,  and 
Lucifer  as  a  rebellious  vassal.  "  He  deceived  numbers  of 
angels,  and  brought  them  over  to  his  party,  so  that  they  were 
to  do  him  homage  and  obedience,  as  to  their  sovereign  lord, 
and  be  no  way  subject  to  God;  and  Lucifer  was  to  hold  his 
government  in  like  manner  to  God,  and  independent  of  all 
subjection  to  him.  ...  St.  Michael,  on  discovering  his  in- 
tentions, came  to  him,  and  said  that  he  was  acting  very 
wrong."  "  A  battle  ensued  between  them,  and  many  of  the 
angels  took  part  on  either  side,  but  the  greater  number  were 
for  St.  Michael."  That  a  kindred  view  was  held  by  our 
protestant  Milton,  is  obvious. 

§  106.  Along  with  this  parallelism  between  the  social 
systems  of  the  two  lives,  may  fitly  be  named  the  closeness 
of  communion  between  them.  The  second  life  is  originally 
allied  to  the  first  by  frequency  and  directness  of  intercourse. 
In  Dahomey,  many  immolations  are  due  to  the  alleged  need 


THE  IDEAS  OF  ANOTHER  LIFE.  195 

for  periodically  supplying  the  departed  monarch  with  fresh 
attendants  in  the  shadowy  world;  and  further,  "  whatever 
action,  however  trivial,  is  done  by  the  King,  ...  it  must 
be  dutifully  reported  by  some  male  or  female  messenger  to 
the  paternal  ghost."  Among  the  Kaffirs  the  system  of  appeal 
from  subordinates  to  superiors,  is  extended  so  as  to  include 
those  who  have  passed  into  the  other-life:  "  the  departed 
spirit  of  a  chief  being  sometimes  invoked  to  compel  a  man's 
ancestors  to  bless  him."  And  with  this  may  be  named  a 
still  stranger  instance — the  extension  of  trading  transactions 
from  the  one  life  into  the  other:  money  being  borrowed 
"  in  this  life,  to  be  repaid  with  heavy  interest  in  the  next." 
In  this  respect,  as  in  other  respects,  the  conceptions  of 
civilized  races  have  but  slowly  diverged  from  those  of  savage 
races.  On  reading  that  when  tribes  of  the  Amazulu  are 
hostile,  the  ancestral  spirits  of  the  one  tribe  go  to  fight  those 
of  the  other,  we  are  reminded  of  the  supernatural  beings 
who,  siding  some  with  Greeks  and  some  with  Trojans,  joined 
in  the  combat;  and  we  are  also  reminded  that  the  Jews 
thought.  "  the  angels  of  the  nations  fought  in  heaven  when 
their  allotted  peoples  made  war  on  earth."  Further,  we  are 
reminded  that  the  creed  of  Christendom,  under  its  predomi- 
nant form,  implies  a  considerable  communion  between  those 
in  the  one  life  and  those  in  the  other.  The  living  pray  for 
the  dead;  and  the  canonized  dead  are  asked  to  intercede 
on  behalf  of  the  living. 

§  107.  The  second  life,  being  originally  conceived  as  re- 
peating the  first  in  other  respects,  is  originally  conceived  as 
repeating  it  in  conduct,  sentiments,  and  ethical  code. 

According  to  the  Thibetan  cosmogony,  the  gods  fought 
among  themselves.  The  Fijian  gods  "  are  proud  and  re- 
vengeful, and  make  war,  and  kill  and  eat  each  other,  and  are, 
in  fact,  savages  like  themselves."  Their  names  of  honour 
are  "  the  adulterer,"  "  the  woman-stealer,"  "  the  brain- 
eater,"  "  the  murderer."  And  the  ghost  of  a  Fijian  chief, 


196  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

on  arriving  in  the  other  world,  recommends  himself  by  the 
boast — "  I  have  destroyed  many  towns,  and  slain  many  in 
war."  This  parallelism  between  the  standards  of  conduct 
in  the  two  lives,  typical  as  it  is  of  parallelisms  everywhere 
repeated  in  lower  stages  of  progress,  reminds  us  of  like  paral- 
lelisms between  the  standards  of  those  early  peoples  whose 
literatures  have  come  down  to  us. 

Of  the  after-life  of  the  departed  Greeks,  under  its  ethical 
aspect,  the  traits  are  but  indistinct.  Such  as  we  may  per- 
ceive, however,  conform  to  those  of  Greek  daily  life.  In 
Hades,  Achilles  thinks  of  vengeance,  and  rejoices  in  the 
account  of  his  son's  success  in  battle;  Ajax  is  still  angry 
because  Ulysses  defeated  him;  and  the  image  of  Hercules 
goes  about  threateningly,  frightening  the  ghosts  around 
him.  In  the  upper  world  it  is  the  same:  "the  struggle 
on  earth  is  only  the  counterpart  of  the  struggle  in  heaven." 
Mars  is  represented  as  honoured  by  the  titles  of  "  bane  of 
mortals,"  and  "  blood-stainer."  Jealousy  and  revenge  are 
ruling  motives.  Tricking  each  other,  the  immortals  also 
delude  men  by  false  appearances — even  combine,  as  Zeus 
and  Athene  did,  to  prompt  the  breaking  of  treaties  solemnly 
sworn  to.  Easily  offended  and  implacable,  they  are  feared 
just  as  his  demons  are  feared  by  the  primitive  man.  And 
the  one  act  sure  to  be  resented,  is  disregard  of  observances 
which  express  subordination.  As  among  the  Amazulu  at  the 
present  time,  the  anger  of  ancestral  spirits  is  to  be  dreaded 
only  when  they  have  not  been  duly  lauded,  or  have  been 
neglected  when  oxen  were  killed;  as  among  the  Tahitians 
"  the  only  crimes  that  were  visited  by  the  displeasure  of 
their  deities  were  the  neglect  of  some  rite  or  ceremony,  or 
the  failing  to  furnish  required  offerings;  "  so  the  ascribed 
character  of  the  Olympians  is  such  that  the  one  unforgive- 
able  offence  is  neglect  of  propitiations.  Nevertheless,  we 
may  note  that  the  unredeemed  brutality  implied  by  the 
stories  of  the  earlier  gods,  is,  in  the  stories  of  the  later,  con- 
siderably mitigated;  in  correspondence  with  the  mitiga- 


THE  IDEAS  OP  ANOTHER  LIFE.  197 

tion  of  barbarism  attending  the  progress  of  Greek  civiliza- 
tion. 

Nor  in  the  ascribed  moral  standard  of  the  Hebrew  other- 
life,  do  we  fail  to  see  a  kindred  similarity,  if  a  less  complete 
one.  Subordination  is  still  the  supreme  virtue.  If  this  is 
displayed,  wrong  acts  are  condoned,  or  are  not  supposed  to 
be  wrong.  The  obedient  Abraham  is  applauded  for  his  readi- 
ness to  sacrifice  Isaac :  there  is  no  sign  of  blame  for  so  read- 
ily accepting  the  murderous  suggestion  of  his  dream  as  a 
dictate  from  heaven.  The  massacre  of  the  Amalekites  by 
divine  command,  is  completed  by  the  merciless  Samuel  with- 
out check ;  and  there  is  tacit  condemnation  of  the  more  mer- 
ciful Saul.  But  though  the  God  of  the  Hebrews  is  repre- 
sented as  hardening  Pharaoh's  heart,  and  as  sending  a  lying 
spirit  to  deceive  Ahab  through  his  prophets;  it  to  be  noted 
that  the  ethical  codes  of  heaven  and  paradise,  while  reflect- 
ing the  code  of  a  people  in  some  respects  barbarous,  reflect 
the  code  of  a  people  in  other  respects  morally  superior.  Jus- 
tice and  mercy  enter  into  the  moral  standards  of  both  lives 
(as  expressed  by  the  prophets,  at  least),  in  a  degree  not  shown 
us  in  the  moral  standards  of  lower  men. 

§  108.  And  here  we  are  introduced  to  the  fact  remain- 
ing to  be  noted — the  divergence  of  the  civilized  idea  from 
the  savage  idea.  Let  us  glance  at  the  chief  contrasts. 

The  complete  substantiality  of  the  second  life  as  origin- 
ally conceived,  following  necessarily  from  the  conception  of 
the  other-self  as  quite  substantial,  the  foregoing  evidence 
clearly  shows  us.  Somehow  keeping  himself  out  of  sight, 
the  deceased  eats,  drinks,  hunts,  and  fights  as  before.  How 
material  his  life  is  supposed  to  be,  we  see  in  such  facts  as  that, 
among  the  Kaffirs,  a  deceased's  weapons  are  "  broken  or  bent 
lest  the  ghost,  during  some  midnight  return  to  air,  should 
do  injury  with  them,"  and  that  an  Australian  cuts  off  the 
right  thumb  of  a  slain  enemy,  that  the  ghost  may  be  unable 
to  throw  a  spear.  Evidently,  destruction  of  the 

14 


198  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

body  by  burning  or  otherwise,  tending  to  produce  a  quali- 
fied notion  of  the  revived  other-self,  tends  to  produce  a  quali- 
fied notion  of  the  other-life,  physically  considered.  The  rise 
of  this  qualified  notion  we  may  see  in  the  practice  of  burn- 
ing or  breaking  or  cutting  to  pieces  the  things  intended  for 
the  dead  man's  use.  We  have  already  noted  cases  (§  84) 
in  which  food  placed  with  the  corpse  is  burnt  along  with  it; 
and  elsewhere,  in  pursuance  of  the  same  idea,  the  property 
is  burnt.  In  Africa  this  is  common.  Among  the  Koossas 
the  widows  of  chiefs  "  burn  all  the  household  utensils;  " 
the  Bagos  (Coast  Negroes)  do  the  like,  and  include  all  their 
stores  of  food:  "even  their  rice  is  not  saved  from  the 
flames."  It  is  a  custom  of  the  Comanches  to  burn  the  de- 
ceased's weapons.  Franklin  says  of  the  Chippewayans,  "  no 
article  is  spared  by  these  unhappy  men  when  a  near  relative 
dies;  their  clothes  and  tents  are  cut  to  pieces,  their  guns 
broken,  and  every  other  weapon  rendered  useless."  Ob- 
viously the  implication  is  that  the  ghosts  of  these  possessions 
go  with  the  deceased ;  and  the  accompanying  belief  that  the 
second  life  is  physically  unlike  the  first,  is  in  some  cases 
expressed :  it  is  said  that  the  essences  of  the  offerings  made 
are  consumed  by  departed  souls  and  not  the  substances  of 
them.  More  decided  still  seems  to  be  the  conceived 

contrast  indicated  by  destroying  models  of  the  deceased's 
possessions.  This  practice,  prevailing  among  the  Chinese, 
was  lately  afresh  witnessed  by  Mr.  J.  Thomson;  who  de- 
scribes two  lamenting  widows  of  a  dead  mandarin  whom  he 
saw  giving  to  the  flames  "  huge  paper-models  of  houses  and 
furniture,  boats  and  sedans,  ladies-in-waiting  and  gentlemen- 
pages."  Clearly,  another  life  in  which  the  burnt  semblances 
of  things  are  useful,  must  be  figured  as  if  a  very  shadowy 
kind. 

The  activities  and  gratifications  of  the  second  life,  origin- 
ally conceived  as  identical  with  those  of  the  first,  come  in 
course  of  time  to  be  conceived  as  more  or  less  unlike  them. 
Besides  seeing  that  at  first  the  predatory  races  look  forward 


THE  IDEAS  OF  ANOTHER  LIFE.  199 

to  predatory  occupations,  and  that  races  living  by  agriculture 
expect  to  plant  and  reap  as  before;  we  see  that  even  where 
there  is  reached  the  advanced  social  state  implied  by  the 
use  of  money,  the  burial  of  money  with  the  body  shows  the 
belief  that  there  will  be  buying  and  selling  in  the  second 
life ;  and  where  sham  coins  made  of  tinsel  are  burnt,  there 
remains  the  same  implication.  But  parallelism  passes  into 
divergence.  Without  trying  to  trace  the  changes,  it  will 
suffice  if  we  turn  to  the  current  description  of  a  hereafter, 
in  which  the  daily  occupations  and  amusements  find  no 
place,  and  in  which  there  is  neither  marrying  nor  giving  in 
marriage.  Still,  being  conceived  as  a  life  in  which  all  the 
days  are  Sundays,  passed  "  where  congregations  ne'er  break 
up,"  it  is  conceived  as  akin  to  a  part  of  the  present  life, 
though  not  to  the  average  of  it. 

Again,  the  supposed  form  of  social  order  becomes  par- 
tially unlike  the  known  form.  Type  of  government,  caste 
distinctions,  servile  institutions,  are  originally  transferred 
from  the  experiences  here  to  the  imaginations  of  the  here- 
after. But  though  in  the  conceptions  entertained  by  the 
most  civilized,  the  analogy  between  the  social  orders  of  the 
first  and  the  second  lives  does  not  wholly  disappear,  the 
second  deviates  a  good  deal  from  the  first.  Though  the 
gradations  implied  by  a  hierarchy  of  archangels,  angels,  etc., 
bear  some  relation  to  the  gradations  seen  around  us;  yet 
they  are  thought  of  as  otherwise  based:  such  inequalities 
as  are  imagined  have  a  different  origin. 

Similarly  respecting  the  ethical  conceptions  and  the  im- 
plied sentiments.  Along  with  the  emotional  modifications 
that  have  taken  place  during  civilization,  there  have  gone 
modifications  in  the  beliefs  respecting  the  code  of  conduct 
and  the  measure  of  goodness  in  the  life  to  come.  The  re- 
ligion of  enmity,  which  makes  international  revenge  a  duty 
and  successful  retaliation  a  glory,  is  to  be  wholly  abandoned ; 
and  the  religion  of  amity  to  be  unqualified.  Still,  in  certain 
respects  the  feelings  and  motives  now  dominant  are  to  re- 


200  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

main  dominant.  The  desire  for  approbation,  which  is  a 
ruling  passion  here,  is  represented  as  being  a  ruling  passion 
hereafter.  The  giving  of  praise  and  receiving  of  approval 
are  figured  as  the  chief  sources  of  happiness. 

Lastly,  we  observe  that  the  two  lives  become  more  widely 
disconnected.  At  first  perpetual  intercourse  between  those 
in  the  one  and  those  in  the  other,  is  believed  to  be  going 
on.  The  savage  daily  propitiates  the  dead;  and  the  dead 
are  supposed  daily  to  aid  or  hinder  the  acts  of  the  living. 
This  close  communion,  persisting  throughout  the  earlier 
stages  of  civilization,  gradually  becomes  less  close.  Though 
by  paying  priests  to  say  masses  for  departed  souls,  and  by 
invocations  of  saints  for  help,  this  exchange  of  services  has 
been,  and  still  continues  to  be,  generally  shown;  yet  the 
cessation  of  such  practices  among  the  most  advanced,  implies 
a  complete  sundering  of  the  two  lives  in  their  thoughts. 

Thus,  then,  as  the  idea  of  death  gets  gradually  marked 
off  from  the  idea  of  suspended  animation;  and  as  the  antici- 
pated resurrection  comes  to  be  thought  of  as  more  and  more 
remote;  so  the  distinction  between  the  second  life  and  the 
first  life,  grows,  little  by  little,  decided.  The  second  life 
diverges  by  becoming  less  material ;  by  becoming  more  un- 
like in  its  occupations;  by  having  another  kind  of  social 
order:  by  presenting  gratifications  more  remote  from  those 
of  the  senses;  and  by  the  higher  standard  of  conduct  it 
assumes.  And  while  thus  differentiating  in  nature,  the  sec- 
ond life  separates  more  widely  from  the  first.  Communion 
decreases;  and  there  is  an  increasing  interval  between  the 
ending  of  the  one  and  the  beginning  of  the  other. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    IDEAS    OF    ANOTHER    WORLD. 

§  109.  WHILE  describing  in  the  last  chapter,  the  ideas 
of  another  life,  I  have  quoted  passages  which  imply  ideas  of 
another  world.  The  two  sets  of  ideas  are  so  closely  con- 
nected, that  the  one  cannot  be  treated  without  occasional 
reference  to  the  other.  I  have,  however,  reserved  the  second 
for  separate  treatment;  both  because  the  question  of  the 
locality  in  which  another  life  is  supposed  to  be  passed,  is 
a  separate  question,  and  because  men's  conceptions  of  that 
locality  undergo  modifications  which  it  will  be  instructive  to 
trace. 

We  shall  find  that  by  a  process  akin  to  the  processes 
lately  contemplated,  the  place  of  residence  for  the  dead  di- 
verges slowly  from  the  place  of  residence  for  the  living. 

§  110.  Originally  the  two  coincide:  the  savage  imag- 
ines his  dead  relatives  are  close  at  hand.  If  he  renews  the 
supplies  of  food  at  their  graves,  and  otherwise  propitiates 
them,  the  implication  is  that  they  are  not  far  away,  or  that 
they  will  soon  be  back.  This  implication  he  accepts. 

The  Sandwich  Islanders  think  "  the  spirit  of  the  departed 
hovers  about  the  places  of  its  former  resort;  "  and  in  Mada- 
gascar, the  ghosts  of  ancestors  are  said  to  frequent  their 
tombs.  The  Guiana  Indians  believe  "  every  place  is  haunted 
-where  any  have  died."  So,  too,  is  it  throughout  Africa. 

On  the  Gold  Coast,  "  the  spirit  is  supposed  to  remain  near 

201 


202  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

the  spot  where  the  body  has  been  buried;  "  and  the  East 
Africans  "  appear  to  imagine  the  souls  to  be  always  near  the 
places  of  sepulture."  Nay,  this  assumed  identity  of  habitat 
is,  in  some  cases,  even  closer.  In  the  country  north  of  the 
Zambesi,  "  all  believe  that  the  souls  of  the  departed  still 
mingle  among  the  living,  and  partake  in  some  way  of  the 
food  they  consume."  So,  likewise,  "  on  the  Aleutian  Islands 
the  invisible  souls  or  shades  of  the  departed  wander  about 
among  their  children." 

Certain  funeral  customs  lead  to  the  belief  in  a  special 
place  of  residence  near  at  hand ;  namely,  the  deserted  house 
or  village  in  which  the  deceased  lived.  The  Kamschadales 
"  frequently  remove  to  some  other  place  when  any  one  has 
died  in  the  hut,  without  dragging  the  corpse  along  with 
them."  Among  the  Lepchas,  the  house  where  there  has  been 
a  death  "  is  almost  always  forsaken  by  the  surviving  in- 
mates." The  motive,  sufficiently  obvious,  is  in  some  cases 
assigned.  If  a  deceased  Creek  Indian  "  has  been  a  man  of 
eminent  character,  the  family  immediately  remove  from  the 
house  in  which  he  is  buried,  and  erect  a  new  one,  with  a 
belief  that  where  the  bones  of  their  dead  are  deposited,  the 
place  is  always  attended  by  goblins."  Various  African  peo- 
ples have  the  same  practice.  Among  the  Balonda,  a  man 
abandons  the  hut  where  a  favourite  wife  died;  and  if  he 
revisits  the  place,  "  it  is  to  pray  to  her  or  make  an  offering." 
In  some  cases  a  more  extensive  desertion  takes  place.  The 
Hottentots  remove  their  kraal  "  when  an  inhabitant  dies  in 
it."  After  a  death  the  Boobies  of  Fernando  Po  forsake  the 
village  in  which  it  occurred.  And  of  the  Bechuanas  we 
read  that  "  on  the  death  of  Mallahawan,  .  .  .  the  town 
[Lattakoo]  was  removed,  according  to  the  custom  of  the 
country." 

In  these  cases  the  consistency  is  complete.  From  the 
other  primitive  ideas  we  have  traced,  arises  this  primitive 
idea  that  the  second  life  is  passed  in  the  locality  in  which 
the  first  life  was  passed. 


THE  IDEAS  OF  ANOTHER  WORLD.  £03 

§  111.  Elsewhere  we  trace  small  modifications:  the  re- 
gion said  to  be  haunted  by  the  souls  of  the  dead  becomes 
wider.  Though  they  revisit  their  old  homes,  yet  commonly 
they  keep  at  some  distance. 

In  Xew  Caledonia,  "  the  spirits  of  the  departed  are  sup- 
posed to  go  to  the  bush ;  "  and  in  Eromanga  "  spirits  are  also 
thought  to  roam  the  bush."  We  find,  with  a  difference,  this 
belief  among  some  Africans.  The  Coast  Negroes  think  there 
are  wild  people  in  the  bush  who  summon  their  souls  to  make 
slaves  of  them;  and  the  notion  of  the  Bulloms  is  that  the 
inferior  order  of  demons  reside  in  the  bush  near  the  town, 
and  the  superior  further  off. 

In  other  cases  funeral  customs  generate  the  idea  that  the 
world  of  the  dead  is  an  adjacent  mountain.  The  Caribs 
buried  their  chiefs  on  hills;  the  Comanches  on  "  the  highest 
hill  in  the  neighbourhood;  "  the  Patagonians,  too,  interred 
on  the  summits  of  the  highest  hills ;  and  in  Western  Arabia, 
the  burial  grounds  "  are  generally  on  or  near  the  summits 
of  mountains."  This  practice  and  the  accompanying  belief, 
have  sometimes  an  unmistakable  connexion.  We  saw  that 
in  Borneo  they  deposit  the  bones  of  their  dead  on  the  least 
accessible  peaks  and  ridges.  Hence  the  Hill-Dyaks'  belief 
given  by  Low,  that  the  summits  of  the  higher  hills  are  peo- 
pled with  spirits;  or,  as  St.  John  says,  "  with  regard  to  a 
future  state  the  (Land)  Dyaks  point  to  the  highest  moun- 
tain in  sight  as  the  abode  of  their  departed  friends."  Many 
more  peoples  have  mountain  other-worlds.  In  Tahiti,  "  the 
heaven  most  familiar  .  .  .  was  situated  near  .  .  .  glorious 
Tamahani,  the  resort  of  departed  spirits,  a  celebrated  moun- 
tain on  the  north-west  side  of  Raiatea."  As  we  lately  saw 
(§  97),  a  like  belief  prevails  in  Madagascar.  Ancl  I  may  add 
the  statement  quoted  by  Sir  John  Lubbock  from  Dubois,  that 
the  "  seats  of  happiness  are  represented  by  some  Hindu 
writers  to  be  vast  mountains  on  the  north  of  India." 

Where  caves  are  used  for  interments,  they  become  the 
supposed  places  of  abode  for  the  dead;  and  hence  develops 


204  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

the  notion  of  a  subterranean  other-world.  Ordinary  burial, 
joined  with  the  belief  in  a  double  who  continually  wanders 
and  returns  to  the  grave,  may  perhaps  suggest  an  idea  like 
that  of  the  Khonds,  whose  "  divinities  [ancestral  spirits] 
are  all  confined  to  the  limits  of  the  earth:  within  it  they 
are  believed  to  reside,  emerging  and  retiring  at  will."  But, 
obviously,  cave-burial  tends  to  give  a  more  developed  form 
to  this  conception.  Professor  Nilsson,  after  pointing  out 
how  the  evidence  yielded  by  remains  in  caves  verifies  the 
traditions  and  allusions  current  throughout  Europe  and  Asia 
- — after  referring  to  the  villages  of  artificial  mountain-caves, 
which  men  made  when  they  became  too  numerous  for  nat- 
ural caves;  and  after  reminding  us  that  along  with  living 
in  caves  there  went  burial  in  caves;  remarks  that  "  this 
custom,  like  all  religious  customs,  .  .  .  survived  long  after 
people  had  commenced  to  inhabit  proper  houses."  This 
connexion  of  practices  is  especially  conspicuous  in  America, 
from  Terra  del  Fuego  to  Mexico,  as  indicated  in  §  87.  And 
along  with  it  we  find  the  conception  of  an  under-ground  re- 
gion to  which  the  dead  betake  themselves ;  as,  for  instance, 
among  the  Patagonians ;  who  believe  "  that  some  of  them 
after  death  are  to  return  to  those  divine  caverns  "  where 
they  were  created,  and  where  their  particular  deities  reside.* 

§  112.  To  understand  fully  the  genesis  of  this  last  be- 
lief, we  must,  however,  join  with  it  the  genesis  of  the  belief 
in  more  distant  localities  inhabited  by  the  departed.  What 
changes  the  idea  of  another  world  close  at  hand,  to  the  idea 
of  another  world  comparatively  remote?  The  answer  is 
simple — migration. 

The  dreams  of  those  who  have  lately  migrated,  initiate 
beliefs  in  future  abodes  which  the  dead  reach  by  long  jour- 
neys. Having  attachments  to  relatives  left  behind,  and 
being  subject  to  home-sickness  (sometimes  in  extreme  de- 
grees, as  shown  by  Livingstone's  account  of  some  negroes 
who  died  from  it),  uncivilized  men,  driven  by  war  or  famine 


THE  IDEAS  OP  ANOTHER  WORLD.  205 

to  other  habitats,  must  often  dream  of  the  places  and  persons 
they  have  left.  Their  dreams,  narrated  and  accepted  in  the 
original  way  as  actual  experiences,  make  it  appear  that  dur- 
ing sleep  they  have  been  to  their  old  abodes.  First  one  and 
then  another  dreams  thus :  rendering  familiar  the  notion  of 
visiting  the  father-land  during  sleep.  What,  naturally,  hap- 
pens at  death;  interpreted  as  it  is  by  the  primitive  man? 
The  other-self  is  long  absent — where  has  he  gone?  Obvi- 
ously to  the  place  which  he  often  went  to,  and  from  which 
at  other  times  he  returned.  Now  he  has  not  returned.  He 
longed  to  go  back,  and  frequently  said  he  would  go  back. 
Now  he  has  done  as  he  said  he  would. 

This  interpretation  we  meet  with  everywhere:  in  some 
cases  stated,  and  in  others  implied.  Among  the  Peruvians, 
when  an  Ynca  died,  it  was  said  that  he  "  was  called  home  to 
the  mansions  of  his  father  the  Sun."  "  When  the  Mandans 
die  they  expect  to  return  to  the  original  seats  of  their  fore- 
fathers." In  Mangaia  "  when  a  man  died,  his  spirit  was  sup- 
posed to  return  to  Avaiki,  i.  e.,  the  ancient  home  of  their 
ancestors  in  the  region  of  sunset."  "  Think  not,"  said  a  New 
Zealand  chief,  "  that  my  origin  is  of  the  earth.  I  come  from 
the  heavens ;  my  ancestors  are  all  there ;  they  are  gods,  and 
I  shall  return  to  them."  If  the  death  of  a  Sautal  occurs  at 
a  distance  from  the  river,  "  his  nearest  kinsman  carries  a 
little  relic  .  .  .  and  places  it  in  the  current,  to  be  conveyed 
to  the  far  off  eastern  land  from  which  his  ancestors  came :  " 
an  avowed  purpose  which,  in  adjacent  regions,  dictates  the 
placing  of  the  entire  body  in  the  stream.  Similarly,  "  the 
Teutonic  tribes  so  conceived  the  future  as  to  reduce  death 
to  a  '  home-going ' — a  return  to  the  Father."  Let  us  ob- 
serve how  the  implications  of  this  belief  correspond  with  the 
facts. 

Migrations  have  been  made  in  all  directions ;  and  hence, 
on  this  hypothesis,  there  must  have  arisen  many  different 
beliefs  respecting  the  direction  of  the  other  world.  These 
we  find.  I  do  not  mean  only  that  the  beliefs  differ  in  widely- 


206  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

separated  parts  of  the  world.  They  differ  within  each  con- 
siderable area;  and  often  in  such  ways  as  might  be  expected 
from  the  probable  routes  through  which  the  habitats 
were  reached,  and  in  such  ways  as  to  agree  with  tradi- 
tions. Thus  in  South  America  the  Chonos,  "  trace 
their  descent  from  western  nations  across  the  ocean;  "  and 
they  anticipate  going  in  that  direction  ofter  death.  The 
adjacent  Araucanians  believe  that  "  after  death  they  go 
towards  the  west  beyond  the  sea."  Expecting  to  go  to  the 
east,  whence  they  came,  Peruvians  of  the  Ynca  race  turned 
the  face  of  the  corpse  to  the  east;  but  not  so  those  of  the 
aboriginal  race  living  on  the  coast.  The  paradise  of  the 
Ottomacks  of  Guiana,  is  in  the  west ;  while  that  of  the  Cen- 
tral Americans  was  "  where  the  sun  rises."  In  North 
America  the  Ghinooks,  inhabiting  high  latitudes,  have  their 
heaven  in  the  south,  as  also  have  the  Chippewas ;  while  the 
tribes  inhabiting  the  more  southerly  parts  of  the  continent, 
have  their  "  happy  hunting-grounds  "  in  the  west.  Again, 
in  Asia  the  paradise  of  the  Kalmucks  is  in  the  west ;  that  of 
the  Kookies  in  the  north ;  that  of  the  Todas  "  where  the  sun 
goes  down."  And  there  are  like  differences  among  the  be- 
liefs of  the  Polynesian  Islanders.  In  Eromanga  "  the  spirits 
of  the  dead  are  supposed  to  go  eastward;  "  while  in  Lifu, 
"  the  spirit  is  supposed  to  go  westward  at  death,  to  a  place 
called  Loeha."  As  is  shown  by  one  of  the  above 
cases,  the  position  of  the  corpse  has  reference,  obviously  im- 
plied and  in  some  cases  avowed,  to  the  road  which  the  de- 
ceased is  expected  to  take.  By  the  Mapuche's  the  body  is 
placed  sitting  "  with  the  face  turned  towards  the  west — the 
direction  of  the  spirit-land."  The  Damaras  place  the  corpse 
with  the  face  towards  the  north,  "  to  remind  them  (the 
natives)  whence  they  originally  came;  "  and  the  corpses 
of  the  neighbouring  Bechuanas  are  made  to  face  to  the  same 
point  of  the  compass. 

Along  with  these  different  conceptions  there  go  different 
ideas  of  the  journey  to  be  taken  after  death;  with  corre- 


THE  IDEAS  OP  ANOTHER  WORLD.  207 

spondingly-different  preparations  for  it.  There  is  the  jour- 
ney to  an  under- world ;  the  journey  over  land;  the  journey 
down  a  river;  and  the  journey  across  the  sea. 

Descent  from  troglodytes,  alike  shown  by  remains  and 
surviving  in  traditions,  generates  a  group  of  beliefs  respect- 
ing man's  origin;  and  (when  joined  with  this  expectation 
of  returning  at  death  to  the  ancestral  home)  a  further  group 
of  beliefs  respecting  the  locality  of  the  other  world.  "  At 
least  one-half  of  the  tribes  in  America  represent  that  man 
was  first  created  under,  the  ground,  or  in  the  rocky  caverns 
of  the  mountains,"  says  Catlin.  This  is  a  notion  which  could 
scarcely  fail  to  arise  among  those  whose  forefathers  dwelt  in 
caves.  Having  no  language  capable  of  expressing  the  dif- 
ference between  begetting  and  creating,  their  traditions  in- 
evitably represent  them  as  having  been  made  in  caves,  or, 
more  vaguely,  as  having  come  out  of  the  earth.  Accord- 
ing as  the  legends  remain  special  (which  they  are  likely  to 
do  where  the  particular  caves  once  inhabited  are  in  the 
neighbourhood)  or  become  general  (which  they  are  likely 
to  do  where  the  tribe  migrates  to  other  regions)  the  belief 
may  assume  the  one  or  the  other  form.  In  the  first  case, 
there  will  arise  stories  such  as  that  current  in  the  Basuto- 
country,  where  exists  a  cavern  whence  the  natives  say  they 
all  proceeded;  or  such  as  that  named  by  Livingstone  con- 
cerning a  cave  near  the  village  of  Sechele,  which  is  said  to 
be  "  the  habitation  of  the  Deity."  In  the  second  case,  there 
will  arise  such  ideas  as  those  still  existing  among  the  Todas, 
who  think  of  their  ancestors  as  having  risen  from  the  ground ; 
and  such  ideas  as  those  of  the  ancient  historic  races,  who 
regarded  "  mother  Earth  "  as  the  source  of  all  beings.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  however,  we  do  actually  find  along  with  the 
belief  in  a  subterranean  origin,  the  belief  in  a  subterranean 
world,  where  the  departed  rejoin  their  ancestors.  Without 
dwelling  on  the  effects  produced  in  primitive  minds  by  such 
vast  branching  caverns  as  the  Mammoth-cave  of  Kentucky, 
or  the  cave  of  Bellamar  in  Florida,  it  suffices  to  remember 


208  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

that  in  limestone-formations  all  over  the  globe,  water  has 
formed  long  ramifying  passages  (in  this  direction  bringing 
the  explorer  to  an  impassable  chasm,  in  that  to  an  under- 
ground river)  to  see  that  the  belief  in  an  indefinitely-ex- 
tended under-world  is  almost  certain  to  arise.  On  recalling 
the  credulity  shown  by  our  own  rustics  in  every  locality 
where  some  neighbouring  deep  pool  or  tarn  is  pointed  out 
as  bottomless,  it  will  be  manifest  that  caves  of  no  great  ex- 
tent, remaining  unexplored  to  their  terminations,  readily 
come  to  be  regarded  as  endless — as  leading  by  murky  ways 
to  gloomy  infernal  regions.  And  where  any  such  cave, 
originally  inhabited,  was  then  or  afterwards  used  for  pur- 
poses of  sepulture,  and  was  consequently  considered  as  peo- 
pled by  the  souls  of  ancestors,  there  would  result  the  belief 
that  the  journey  after  death  to  the  ancestral  home,  ended  in 
a  descent  to  Hades.* 

Where  the  journey  thus  ending,  or  otherwise  ending,  is 
a  long  one,  preparations  have  to  be  made.  Hence  the  club 
put  into  the  hand  of  the  dead  Fijian  to  be  ready  for  self- 
defence  ;  hence  the  spear-thrower  fastened  to  the  finger  of  a 
New  Caledonian's  corpse ;  hence  the  "  hell-shoon  "  provided 
by  the  Scandinavians;  hence  the  sacrificed  horse  or  camel 
on  which  to  pursue  the  weary  way;  hence  the  passports  by 
which  the  Mexicans  warded  off  some  of  the  dangers;  hence 
the  dog's  head  laid  by  the  Esquimaux  on  the  grave  of  a  child 
to  serve  as  a  guide  to  the  land  of  souls;  hence  the  ferry- 
money,  and  the  presents  for  appeasing  the  demons  met. 

Of  course,  a  certain  family-likeness  among  alleged  diffi- 
culties of  this  return-journey  after  death,  is  to  be  expected 
where  the  migrations  have  had  similar  difficulties.  The 
heaven  of  the  Gold  Coast  Negroes,  is  an  "  inland  country 
called  Bosmanque:  "  a  river  having  to  be  crossed  on  the 

*  A  confirmation  has  been  pointed  out  to  me  since  the  above  passage  was 
put  in  type.  If  with  the  primitive  Hebrew  practice  of  cave-burial  (shown  by 
Abraham's  purchase)  we  join  the  fact  that  Shfol  literally  means  "  cave ;  "  wo 
may  infer  that  along  with  development  of  the  ghost  into  a  permanently-ex- 
isting soul,  there  went  development  of  the  cave  into  an  under. world. 


THE  IDEAS  OP  ANOTHER  WORLD.  209 

way.  This  is  naturally  a  leading  event  in  the  description 
of  the  journey,  among  inhabitants  of  continents.  An  over- 
land migration  can  rarely  have  occurred  without  some  large 
river  being  met  with.  The  passing  of  such  a  river  will,  in 
the  surviving  tradition,  figure  as  a  chief  obstacle  overcome ; 
and  the  re-passing  it  will  be  considered  a  chief  obstacle  on 
the  journey  back,  made  by  the  dead.  Sometimes  inability 
to  pass  the  river  is  the  assigned  reason  for  a  supposed  return 
of  the  soul.  By  a  North  American  tribe,  the  revival  from 
trance  is  thus  explained :  the  other-self,  failing  to  get  across, 
came  back.  It  is  not  impossible  that  the  conceived  danger 
of  this  river-crossing — a  danger  so  great  that,  having  once 
escaped,  the  deceased  will  not  encounter  it  again — leads  to 
the  idea  that  spirits  cannot  pass  over  running  streams. 

"Where  a  migrating  tribe,  instead  of  reaching  the  new 
habitat  by  an  overland  route,  has  reached  it  by  ascending 
a  river,  the  tradition,  and  the  consequent  notion  of  the  jour- 
ney back  to  the  ancestral  home,  take  other  shapes  and  entail 
other  preparations.  Humboldt  tells  us  that  in  South  Amer- 
ica, tribes  spread  along  the  rivers  and  their  branches:  the 
intervening  forests  being  impenetrable.  In  Borneo,  too, 
where  the  invading  races  are  located  about  the  shores  and 
rivers,  the  rivers  have  clearly  been  the  channels  up  which 
the  interior  had  been  reached.  Hence  certain  funeral  rites 
which  occur  in  Borneo.  The  Kanowits  send  much  of  a  de- 
ceased chief's  goods  adrift  in  a  frail  canoe  on  the  river. 
The  Malanaus  used  "  to  drift  the  deceased's  sword,  eatables, 
cloths,  jars — and  often  in  former  days  a  slave  woman  accom- 
panied these  articles,  chained  to  the  boat — out  to  sea,  with  a 
strong  ebb  tide  running."  Describing  this  as  a  custom  of 
the  past,  Brooke  says  that  at  present  "  these  crafts  are  placed 
near  their  graves:  "  an  example  of  the  way  in  which  ob- 
servances become  modified  and  their  meanings  obscured. 
A  kindred  example  is  furnished  by  the  Chinooks,  who,  put- 
ting the  body  in  a  canoe  near  the  river-side,  place  the  canoe 
with  its  head  pointing  down  the  stream. 


THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

The  journey  to  the  other-world  down  a  river,  brings  us 
with  scarcely  a  break  to  the  remaining  kind  of  journey — 
that  over  the  sea.  We  habitually  find  it  where  there  has 
been  an  over-sea  migration.  The  heaven  of  the  Tongans  is 
a  distant  island.  Though  it  is  not  clear  where  Bulu,  the 
Fijian  abode  of  bliss,  is  situated,  yet  "  the  fact  that  it  cannot 
be  reached  except  in  a  canoe,  shows  that  it  is  separated  from 
this  world  by  water."  The  entrance  to  the  Samoan  Hades 
is  "  at  the  west-end  of  Savaii,"  and  to  reach  this  entrance 
the  spirit  (if  belonging  to  a  person  living  on  another  island) 
journeyed  partly  by  land  and  partly  swimming  the  inter- 
mediate sea  or  seas.  Moreover  the  Samoans  "  say  of  a  chief 
who  has  died,  '  he  has  sailed.' '  Along  with,  or  instead  of, 
these  distinct  statements,  we  have,  in  other  cases,  practices 
sufficiently  significant.  Sometimes  a  part  of  a  canoe  is  found 
near  a  grave  in  the  Sandwich  Islands.  In  New  Zealand, 
undoubtedly  peopled  by  immigrant  Polynesians,  Angas  says 
a  canoe,  sometimes  with  sails  and  paddles,  or  part  of  a  canoe, 
is  placed  beside  or  in  their  graves;  while  the  statement  of 
Thompson  that  the  bodies  of  New  Zealand  chiefs  were  put 
into  canoe-shaped  boxes,  shows  us  a  modification  which  ex- 
plains other  such  modifications.  Already  we  have  seen  that 
the  Chonos,  of  western  Patagonia,  who  trace  their  descent 
from  western  people  across  the  ocean,  expect  to  go  back  to 
them  after  death;  and  here  it  is  to  be  added  that  "  they  bury 
their  dead  in  canoes,  near  the  sea."  Of  the  Araucanians, 
too,  with  like  traditions  and  like  expectations,  we  read  that 
a  chief  is  sometimes  buried  in  a  boat.  Bonwick  alleges  of 
the  Australians  that  formerly  in  Port  Jackson,  the  body 
was  put  adrift  in  a  bark  canoe;  and  Angas,  again  showing 
us  how  an  observance  having  at  first  an  unmistakable  mean- 
ing passes  into  a  form  of  which  the  meaning  is  less  distinct, 
says  the  New  South  Wales  people  sometimes  bury  the  dead 
in  a  bark  canoe. 

Like  evidence  is  found  in  the  northern  hemisphere. 
Among  the  Chinooks  "  all  excepting  slaves,  are  laid  in  ca- 


THE  IDEAS  OF  ANOTHER  WORLD.  211 

noes  or  wooden  sepulchres;  "  the  Ostyaks  "  bury  in  boats;  " 
and  there  were  kindred  usages  among  the  ancient  Scandi- 


navians. 


§  113.  Yet  a  further  explanation  is  thus  afforded.  We 
see  how,  in  the  same  society,  there  arise  beliefs  in  two  or 
more  other-worlds.  When  with  migration  there  is  joined 
conquest,  invaders  and  invaded  will  naturally  have  different 
ancestral  homes  to  which  their  respective  dead  depart. 
Habitually,  where  physical  and  mental  unlikenesses  indicate 
unlike  origins  of  the  governing  classes  and  the  governed 
classes,  there  is  a  belief  in  unlike  other-worlds  for  them. 
The  Samoan  chiefs  "  were  supposed  to  have  a  separate  place 
allotted  to  them,  called  Pulotu."  We  have  seen  that  in 
Peru,  the  Ynca  race  and  the  aborigines  went  after  death 
to  different  regions.  In  the  opinion  of  some  Tongans,  only 
the  chiefs  have  souls,  and  go  to  Bolotoo,  their  heaven:  the 
probability  being  that  the  traditions  of  the  more  recent  con- 
quering immigrants,  and  the  belief  in  their  return  journey 
after  death,  are  relatively  distinct  and  dominant.  Using 
the  clue  thus  furnished,  we  may  see  how  the  different  other- 
worlds  for  different  ranks  in  the  same  society,  become  other 
worlds  for  good  and  bad  respectively.  On  remembering 
that  our  word  villain,  now  so  expressive  of  detestable  char- 
acter, once  merely  meant  a  serf,  while  noble  was  at  first  in- 
dicative only  of  high  social  position;  we  cannot  question 
the  tendency  of  early  opinion  to  identify  subjection  with 
badness  and  supremacy  with  goodness.  On  also  remem- 
bering that  victors  become  the  military  class,  while  van- 
quished become  slaves  who  do  not  fight,  and  that  in  societies 
so  constituted  worth  is  measured  by  bravery,  we  perceive 
a  further  reason  why  the  other-worlds  of  upper  and  lower 
classes,  though  originally  their  respective  ancestral  homes, 
come  to  be  regarded  as  places  for  worthy  and  unworthy. 
Naturally,  therefore,  where  indigenous  descendants  from 
cave-dwellers  have  been  subjugated  by  an  invading  race, 


212  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

it  will  happen  that  the  respective  places  to  which  the  two 
expect  to  return,  will  differentiate  into  places  for  bad  and 
good.  There  will  arise  such  a  belief  as  that  of  the  Nica- 
ragua-people, who  held  that  the  bad  (those  who  died  in  their 
houses)  went  under  the  earth  to  Miqtanteot,  while  the  good 
(who  died  in  battle)  went  to  serve  the  gods  where  the  sun 
rises,  in  the  country  whence  the  maize  came.  As  the  Pata- 
gonians  show  us,  the  unsubjugated  descendants  of  cave- 
dwellers  do  not  regard  the  under-world  as  a  place  of  misery. 
Contrariwise,  their  return  after  death  to  the  "  divine  cav- 
erns," is  to  bring  a  pleasurable  life  with  the  god  who  pre- 
sides in  the  land  of  strong  drink.  But  where,  as  in  Mexico, 
there  have  been  conquests,  the  under-world  is  considered, 
if  not  as  a  place  of  punishment,  still  as  a  relatively-uncom- 
fortable place. 

Thus  then,  the  noteworthy  fact  is  that  a  supposed  in- 
fernal abode  like  the  Greek  Hades,  not  undesirable  as  con- 
ceived by  proximate  descendants  of  troglodytes,  may  differ- 
entiate into  a  dreary  place,  and  at  length  into  a  place  of 
punishment,  mainly  because  of  the  contrast  with  the  better 
places  to  which  the  other  souls  go — Isles  of  the  West  for 
the  specially  brave,  or  the  celestial  abode  for  favourites  of 
the  gods.  And  the  further  noteworthy  fact  is,  that  the  most 
inhospitable  regions  into  which  rebels  are  expelled,  yield 
a  kindred  origin  for  a  Tartarus  or  a  Gehenna.* 

§  114.  Interpretable  after  the  same  general  manner,  is 
the  remaining  conception  of  another  world,  above  or  outside 
of  this  world.  The  transition  from  a  mountain  abode  to 

*  While  this  is  in  the  press,  I  find  in  the  oldest  of  all  known  legends,  the 
Babylonian  account  of  the  flood,  evidence  that  heaven,  as  then  conceived,  was 
the  territory  whence  the  conquering  race  came.  The  residence  of  the  gods, 
to  which  Xisithrus  is  translated  for  his  piety,  is  "  on  the  Persian  Gulf,  near 
the  mouth  of  the  Euphrates  ;  "  and  Mr.  G.  Smith  points  out  that  this  was  the 
sacred  region  whence  came  the  beings  who  taught  the  Babylonians  the  arts, 
and  were  worshipped  by  them.  [The  expression  "  while  this  is  in  the  press," 
does  not  refer  to  this  edition.  This  note  was  added  in  the  first  edition.] 


THE  IDEAS  OF  ANOTHER   WORLD.  213 

an  abode  in  the  sky,  conceived  as  the  sky  is  by  primitive 
men,  presents  no  difficulties. 

Burial  on  hills  is  practised  by  many  peoples;  and  we 
have  already  seen  that  there  are  places,  as  Borneo,  where, 
along  with  the  custom  of  depositing  a  chief's  remains  on 
some  peak  difficult  of  access,  there  goes  the  belief  that  the 
spirits  of  the  departed  inhabit  the  mountain-tops.  That  the 
custom  causes  the  belief,  is  in  this  case  probable;  though, 
as  we  shall  presently  see,  an  apparently-similar  belief  arises 
otherwise.  Here,  however,  it  concerns  us  only  to  observe 
that  "  the  highest  mountain  in  sight  "  is  regarded  as  a  world 
peopled  by  the  departed;  and  that  in  the  undeveloped 
speech  of  savages,  living  on  a  peak  up  in  the  heavens  is 
readily  confounded  with  living  in  the  heavens.  Remember- 
ing that,  originally,  the  firmament  is  considered  as  a  dome 
supported  by  these  loftiest  peaks,  the  conclusion  that  those 
who  live  on  them  have  access  to  it,  is  a  conclusion  certain 
to  be  drawn. 

But,  as  already  hinted,  besides  the  above  origin,  carrying 
with  it  the  belief  that  departed  souls  of  men  live  on  the 
mountain-tops,  or  in  the  heavens,  there  is  another  possible, 
and  indeed  probable,  origin,  not  carrying  such  a  conclusion ; 
but,  contrariwise,  restricting  this  heavenly  abode  to  a  dif- 
ferent race  of  beings.  Observe  how  this  other  belief  is  sug- 
gested. The  choice  of  high  places  for  purposes 
of  defence,  we  may  trace  back  through  civilized  times  into 
barbarous  times.  What  many  of  our  own  castles  show  us — 
what  we  are  shown  by  modern  and  ancient  fortresses  on  the 
Rhine — what  we  are  shown  by  mediaeval  towns  and  villages 
capping  the  hills  in  Italy,  and  by  scattered  fastnesses 
perched  on  scarcely  accessible  peaks  throughout  the  East; 
we  are  shown  wherever  primitive  savagery  has  been  out- 
grown in  regions  affording  fit  sites.  A  fortress  on  an  ele- 
vation in  ancient  Mexico,  is  described  by  Godoi;  the 
Panches  made  entrenchments  on  high  spots;  and  the  Peru- 
vians fortified  the  tops  of  mountains  by  ranges  of  walled 
15 


214:  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

moats.  Both  invaded  and  invaders  have  thus  utilized  com- 
manding eminences.  The  remains  of  Roman  encampments 
on  our  own  hills,  remind  us  of  this  last  use.  Clearly  then, 
during  the  conflicts  and  subjugations  which  have  been  ever 
going  on,  the  seizing  of  an  elevated  stronghold  by  a  con- 
quering race,  has  been  a  not  infrequent  occurrence ;  and  the 
dominance  of  this  race  has  often  gone  along  with  the  con- 
tinued habitation  of  this  stronghold.  „  An  account 
given  by  Brooke  of  his  long  contest  with  a  mountain-chief 
in  Borneo,  shows  what  would  be  likely  to  happen  when  the 
stronghold  was  in  the  possession  of  the  superior  race.  His 
antagonist  had  fortified  an  almost  inaccessible  crag  on  the 
top  of  Sadok — a  mountain  about  5,000  feet  high,  sur- 
rounded by  lower  mountains.  Described  by  Brooke  as 
"  grim  and  grand,"  it  figures  in  Dyak  legends  and  songs 
as  "  the  Grand  Mount,  towards  which  no  enemy  dare  ven- 
ture." The  first  attempt  to  take  this  fastness  failed  utterly; 
the  second,  in  which  a  small  mortar  was  used,  also  failed; 
and  only  by  the  help  of  a  howitzer,  dragged  up  by  the  joint 
strength  of  hundreds  of  yelling  Dyaks,  did  the  third  at- 
tempt succeed.  This  chieftain,  who  had  many  followers 
and  was  aided  by  subordinate  chiefs,  Layang,  Nanang,  and 
Loyioh,  holding  secondary  forts  serving  as  outposts,  was  un- 
conquerable by  the  surrounding  tribes,  and  was  naturally 
held  in  dread  by  them.  "  Grandfather  Rentap,"  as  he  was 
commonly  called,  was  dangerously  violent;  occasionally 
killed  his  own  men;  was  regardless  of  established  customs; 
and,  among  other  feats,  took  a  second  wife  from  a  people 
averse  to  the  match,  carried  her  off  to  his  eyrie,  and,  dis- 
carding the  old  one,  made  the  young  one  Ranee  of  Sadok. 
Already  there  were  superstitions  about  him.  "  Snakes  were 
supposed  to  possess  some  mysterious  connection  with  Ren- 
tap's  forefathers,  or  the  souls  of  the  latter  resided  in  these 
loathsome  creatures."  Now  if,  instead  of  a  native 
ruler  thus  living  up  in  the  clouds  (which  hindered  the  last 
attack),  keeping  the  country  around  in  fear,  occasionally 


THE  IDEAS  OF  ANOTHER  WORLD.  215 

coming  down  to  fulfil  a  threat  of  vengeance,  and  giving  ori- 
gin to  stories  already  growing  into  superstitions,  we  suppose 
a  ruler  belonging  to  an  invading  race  which,  bringing  knowl- 
edge, skill,  arts  and  implements,  unknown  to  the  natives, 
were  regarded  as  beings  of  superior  kind,  just  as  civilized 
men  now  are  by  savages ;  we  shall  see  that  there  would  in- 
evitably arise  legends  concerning  this  superior  race  seated 
in  the  sky.  Considering  that  among  these  very  Dyaks,  di- 
vine beings  are  conceived  as  differing  so  little  from  men, 
that  the  supreme  god  and  creator,  Tapa,  is  supposed  to  dwell 
"  in  a  house  like  that  of  a  Malay,  .  .  .  himself  being 
clothed  like  a  Dyak ;  "  we  shall  see  that  the  ascription  of  a 
divine  character  to  a  conqueror  thus  placed,  would  be  cer- 
tain. And  if  the  country  was  one  in  which  droughts  had 
fostered  the  faith  in  rain-makers  and  "  heaven-herds  " — 
if,  among  the  Zulus,  there  was  a  belief  in  weather-doctors 
able  to  "  contend  with  the  lightning  and  hail,"  and  to  "  send 
the  lightning  to  another  doctor  to  try  him;  "  this  ruler, 
living  on  a  peak  round  which  the  clouds  formed  and  whence 
the  storms  came,  would,  without  hesitation,  be  regarded  as 
the  causer  of  these  changes — as  a  thunderer  holding  the 
lightnings  in  his  hand.*  Joined  with  which  ascribed  pow- 
ers, there  would  nevertheless  be  stories  of  his  descents  from 
this  place  up  in  the  heavens,  appearances  among  men,  and 
amours  with  their  daughters.  Grant  a  little  time  for  such 
legends  to  be  exaggerated  and  idealized — let  the  facts  be 
magnified  as  was  the  feat  of  Samson  with  the  ass's  jawbone, 
or  the  prowess  of  Achilles  making  "  the  earth  flow  with 
blood,"  or  the  achievement  of  Ramses  II  in  slaying  100,000 

*A  belief  of  the  ancient  Mexicans  illustrates  this  notion  that  beings  living 
where  the  clouds  gather,  are  the  causers  of  them.  "  Tlaloc,  otherwise  Tlalo- 
cateuctli  (Master  of  Paradise),  was  the  god  of  water.  They  called  him  fertil- 
izer of  the  earth,  ...  he  resided  upon  the  highest  mountains,  where  the 
clouds  are  generally  formed.  .  .  .  The  ancients  also  believed  that  in  all  the 
high  mountains  there  resided  other  gods,  subaltern  to  Tlaloc.  They  .  .  . 
were  revered  not  only  as  gods  of  water,  but  also  as  the  gods  of  mountains." — 
Claviffero,  I.  2M-2. 


216  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

foes  single-handed;  and  there  would  be  reached  the  idea 
that  heaven  was  the  abode  of  superhuman  beings  command- 
ing the  powers  of  nature  and  punishing  men.* 

I  am  aware  that  this  interpretation  will  be  called  Eu- 
hemeristic;  and  that  having  so  called  it,  the  mythologists 
whose  views  are  now  in  fashion  will  consider  it  disposed  of. 
Only  incidentally  implied  as  this  view  here  is,  I  must  leave 
it  for  the  present  unsupported.  By-and-by,  after  showing 
that  it  is  congruous  with  all  the  direct  evidence  we  have  re- 
specting primitive  modes  of  thought,  I  hope  further  to  show 
that  the  multitudinous  facts  which  existing  uncivilized  and 
semi-civilized  races  furnish,  yield  no  support  to  the  current 
theories  of  mythologists,  and  that  these  theories  are  equally 
at  variance  with  the  lawrs  of  mental  evolution. 

§  115.  The  general  conclusion  to  which  we  are  led  is 
that  the  ideas  of  another  world  pass  through  stages  of  de- 
velopment. The  habitat  of  the  dead,  originally  conceived 
as  coinciding  with  that  of  the  living,  gradually  diverges — 
here  to  the  adjacent  forest,  there  to  the  remoter  forest,  and 
elsewhere  to  distant  hills  and  mountains.  The  belief  that 
the  dead  rejoin  their  ancestors,  leads  to  further  divergences, 
which  vary  according  to  the  traditions.  Stationary  descend- 
ants of  troglodytes  think  they  return  to  a  subterranean  other- 
world,  whence  they  emerged;  while  immigrant  races  have 
for  their  other-worlds  the  abodes  of  their  fathers,  to  which 
they  journey  after  death:  over  land,  down  a  river,  or  across 
the  sea,  as  the  case  may  be.  Societies  consisting  of  con- 
querors and  conquered,  having  separate  traditions  of  origin, 
have  separate  other- worlds ;  which  differentiate  into  supe- 
rior and  inferior  places,  in  correspondence  with  the  respect- 

*  Such  a  conception,  once  evolved,  need  not  be  restricted  to  the  original 
locality.  Storms  bursting  in  the  sky  far  from  this  mountain  stronghold, 
would  be  taken  as  evidence  that  the  thundcrer  had  access  to  other  parts  of 
the  heavens ;  and  hence  when  the  race  migrated,  this  heaven-god,  proved  by 
the  occurrence  of  storms  to  have  accompanied  them,  would  be  eventually  lo- 
calized on  other  mountains  whence  the  storm  commonly  came. 


TEE  IDEAS  OF  ANOTHER  WORLD.  217 

ive  positions  of  the  two  races.  Conquests  of  these  mixed 
peoples  by  more  powerful  immigrants,  bring  further  com- 
plications— additional  other-worlds,  more  or  less  unlike  in 
their  characters.  Finally,  where  the  places  for  the  departed, 
or  for  superior  classes  of  beings,  are  mountain-tops,  there 
is  a  transition  to  an  abode  in  the  heavens;  which,  at  first 
near  and  definite,  passes  into  the  remote  and  indefinite.  So 
that  the  supposed  residence  for  the  dead,  originally  coincid- 
ing with  the  residence  of  the  living,  is  little  by  little  removed 
in  thought :  distance  and  direction  grow  increasingly  vague, 
and  finally  the  localization  disappears  in  space. 

All  these  conceptions,  then,  which  have  their  root  in  the 
primitive  idea  of  death,  simultaneously  undergo  like  pro- 
gressive modifications.  Resurrection,  once  looked  for  as 
immediate,  is  postponed  indefinitely;  the  ghost,  originally 
conceived  as  quite  substantial,  fades  into  ethereality;  the 
other-life,  which  at  first  repeated  this  exactly,  becomes  more 
and  more  unlike  it ;  and  its  place,  from  a  completely-known 
adjacent  spot,  passes  to  a  somewhere  unknown  and  unim- 
agined. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    IDEAS    OF    SUPERNATURAL    AGENTS. 

§  116.  SPECIALIZED  as  they  are  in  correspondence  with 
our  thoughts,  our  words  do  not  represent  truly  the  thoughts 
of  the  savage;  and  often  entirely  misrepresent  them.  The 
supernatural  pre-supposes  the  natural;  and  until  there  has 
been  reached  that  idea  of  orderly  causation  which  we  call 
natural,  there  can  exist  no  such  idea  as  we  imply  by  super- 
natural. I  am  obliged  to  use  the  word,  however,  in  default 
of  a  better ;  but  the  reader  must  be  cautioned  against  ascrib- 
ing to  the  primitive  man  a  conception  like  that  which  the 
word  gives  to  us. 

This  premised,  let  us,  so  far  as  we  can,  picture  the  im- 
aginary environment  the  primitive  man  makes  for  himself, 
by  the  interpretations  described  in  the  last  four  chapters. 
Inconsistent  in  detail  as  are  the  notions  he  forms  concern- 
ing surrounding  actions,  they  are,  in  their  ensemble,  con- 
sistent with  the  notions  that  have  been  set  forth  as  neces- 
sarily generated  in  him. 

§  117.  In  every  tribe,  a  death  from  time  to  time  adds 
another  ghost  to  the  many  ghosts  of  those  who  died  before. 
We  have  seen  that,  originally,  these  ghosts  are  thought  of  as 
close  at  hand — haunting  the  old  home,  lingering  near  the 
place  of  burial,  wandering  about  in  the  adjacent  bush.  Con- 
tinually accumulating,  they  form  a  surrounding  population; 

218 


THE  IDEAS  OF  SUPERNATURAL  AGENTS.  219 

usually  invisible,  but  some  of  them  occasionally  seen.  Here 
are  a  few  illustrations. 

By  Australians  the  supernatural  beings  thus  derived  are 
supposed  to  be  everywhere :  the  face  of  the  country  swarms 
with  them — thickets,  watering-places,  rocks.  The  Yeddahs, 
who  trust  in  "  the  shades  of  their  ancestors  and  their  chil- 
dren," "  believe  that  the  air  is  peopled  with  spirits,  that 
every  rock  and  every  tree,  every  forest  and  every  hill,  in 
short,  every  feature  of  nature,  has  its  genius  loci"  The 
Tasmanians  imagine  "  a  host  of  malevolent  spirits  and  mis- 
chievous goblins  "  in  caverns,  forests,  clefts,  mountain-tops. 
Where  burial  within  the  house  prevails,  the  ghosts  of  the 
dead  are  conceived  to  be  at  the  elbows  of  the  living;  and 
where,  as  among  the  aborigines  of  the  Amazons,  "  some  of 
the  large  houses  have  more  than  a  hundred  graves  in  them," 
they  must  be  thought  of  as  ever  jostling  their  descendants. 
"  To  a  Karen,  the  world  is  more  thickly  peopled  with  spirits 
than  it  is  with  men.  .  .  .  The  spirits  of  the  departed  dead 
crowd  around  him."  Similarly  the  Tahitians  "  imagined 
they  lived  in  a  world  of  spirits,  which  surrounded  them 
night  and  day,  watching  every  action."  Here  regarded  as 
friendly,  and  here  as  workers  of  mischief,  the  ancestral  spir- 
its are,  in  some  cases,  driven  away,  as  by  the  Xicobar  peo- 
pie- 

"Once  in  the  year,  and  sometimes  when  great  sickness  prevails, 
they  [the  Nicobarians]  build  a  large  canoe,  and  the  Minloven,  or 
priest,  has  the  boat  carried  close  to  each  house,  and  then,  by  his 
noise,  he  compels  all  the  bad  spirits  to  leave  the  dwelling,  and  to  get 
into  the  canoe;  men,  women,  and  children  assist  him  in  his  conjura- 
tion. The  doors  of  the  house  are  shut;  the  ladder  is  taken  out  [the 
houses  are  built  on  posts  8  or  9  feet  high] ;  the  boat  is  then  dragged 
along  to  the  seashore,  where  it  is  soon  carried  off  by  the  waves,  with 
a  full  cargo  of  devils." 

There  is  a  like  custom  in  the  Maldive  islands;  and  some 
of  the  Indians  of  California  annually  expel  the  ghosts  which 
have  accumulated  during  the  year. 

These  multitudinous  disembodied  spirits  are  agents  ever 


220  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

available,  as  conceived  antecedents  to  all  occurrences  need- 
ing explanation.  It  is  not  requisite  that  their  identification 
as  ghosts  should  continue  in  a  distinct  form :  many  of  them 
are  sure  to  lose  this  character.  The  swarms  of  demons  by 
whom  the  Jews  thought  themselves  environed,  while  re- 
garded by  some  as  the  spirits  of  the  wicked  dead,  readily 
came  to  be  regarded  by  others  as  the  offspring  of  the  fallen 
angels  and  the  daughters  of  men.  When  the  genealogies 
of  an  accumulating  host  have  been  lost,  there  remains  noth- 
ing to  resist  any  suggested  theory  respecting  their  origin. 
But  though  the  Arab  who  thinks  the  desert  is  so  thickly 
peopled  with  spirits  that  on  throwing  anything  away  he 
asks  the  forgiveness  of  those  which  may  be  struck,  prob- 
ably does  not  now  regard  them  as  the  wandering  doubles 
of  the  dead;  it  is  clear  that,  given  the  wandering  doubles 
of  the  dead,  supposed  by  the  primitive  man  to  be  everywhere 
around,  and  we  have  the  potentiality  of  countless  super- 
natural agencies  capable  of  indefinite  variation. 

§  118.  Hence  the  naturalness,  and,  indeed,  the  inevit- 
ableness,  of  those  interpretations  which  the  savage  gives 
of  surrounding  phenomena.  With  the  development  of  the 
ghost-theory,  there  arises  an  easy  way  of  accounting  for  all 
those  changes  which  the  heavens  and  earth  hourly  exhibit. 
Clouds  that  gather  and  presently  vanish,  shooting  stars  that 
appear  and  disappear,  sudden  darkenings  of  the  water's 
surface  by  a  breeze,  animal-metamorphoses,  transmutations 
of  substance,  storms,  earthquakes,  eruptions — all  of  them 
are  now  understood.  These  beings  to  whom  is  ascribed  the 
power  of  making  themselves  visible  and  invisible  at  will, 
and  to  whose  other  powers  no  limits  are  known,  are  omni- 
present. Explaining,  as  their  agency  seems  to  do,  all  unex- 
pected changes,  their  own  existence  becomes  further  veri- 
fied. No  other  causes  for  such  changes  are  known,  or 
can  be  conceived;  therefore  these  souls  of  the  dead  must 
be  the  causes;  therefore  the  survival  of  souls  is  mani- 


THE  IDEAS  OF  SUPERNATURAL  AGENTS.  221 

fest:  a  circular  reasoning  which  suffices  many  besides  sav- 
ages. 

The  interpretations  of  nature  which  precede  scientific 
interpretations,  are  thus  the  best  that  can  then  be  framed. 
If  by  the  Karens  "  unaccountable  sounds  and  sights  in  the 
jungles  "  are,  as  Mason  says,  ascribed  to  the  ghosts  of  the 
wicked,  the  Karens  do  but  assume  an  origin  which,  in  the 
absence  of  generalized  knowledge,  is  the  only  imaginable 
origin.  If,  according  to  Bastian,  the  Nicobar  people  attri- 
bute to  evil  spirits  the  unlucky  events  they  cannot  explain 
by  ordinary  causes,  they  are  simply  falling  back  on  such 
remaining  causes  as  they  can  conceive.  Livingstone  names 
certain  rocks  which,  having  been  intensely  heated  by  the 
sun,  and  then  suddenly  cooled  externally  in  the  evening, 
break  with  loud  reports;  and  these  reports  the  natives  set 
down  to  evil  spirits.  To  what  else  should  they  set  them 
down?  Uncivilized  men  are  far  removed  from  the  concep- 
tion that  a  stone  may  break  from  unequal  contraction ;  and 
in  the  absence  of  this  conception,  what  assignable  cause  of 
breaking  is  there,  but  one  of  these  mischievous  demons 
everywhere  at  hand  ?  In  his  account  of  the  Danakil,  Harris 
tells  us  that  "  no  whirlwind  ever  sweeps  across  the  path  with- 
out being  pursued  by  a  dozen  savages  with  drawn  creeses, 
who  stab  into  the  centre  of  the  dusty  column  in  order  to  drive 
away  the  evil  spirit  that  is  believed  to  be  riding  on  the  blast." 
Ludicrous  as  this  notion  appears,  we  have  but  to  remember 
that  the  physical  interpretation  of  a  sand-whirlwind  cannot 
be  framed  by  the  savage,  to  see  that  the  only  conceivable 
interpretation  is  that  which  he  gives.  Occasionally,  too,  his 
experiences  suggest  that  such  agencies  are  multitudinous, 
and  everywhere  present.  Describing  a  tropical  scene,  Hum- 
boldt  says — "  the  surface  of  these  sands,  heated  by  the  rays 
of  the  sun,  seems  to  be  undulating,  like  the  surface  of  a 
liquid  .  .  .  the  sun  animates  the  landscape,  and  gives  mo- 
bility to  the  sandy  plain,  to  the  trunks  of  trees,  and  to  the 
rocks  that  project  into  the  sea  like  promontories."  What 


222  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

shakes  the  tree-trunks  and  makes  the  rocks  oscillate?  There 
is  no  alternative  but  to  assume  invisible  beings  scattered 
about  everywhere.  By  savages  these  appearances  cannot  be 
understood  as  illusions  caused  by  refraction. 

As  one  of  the  above  examples  shows,  the  ghosts  of  the 
dead  are  in  comparatively  early  stages  the  assigned  agents 
for  unusual  phenomena;  and  there  are  other  such  examples. 
Thomson  says  the  Araucanians  think  tempests  are  caused  by 
the  fights  which  the  spirits  of  their  countrymen  have  with 
their  enemies.  Such  interpretations  differ  from  the  inter- 
pretations of  more  advanced  races,  only  by  presenting  the 
individualities  of  dead  friends  and  foes  in  their  original 
forms:  the  eventful  fading  of  these  individualities  leaves 
notions  of  personal  agencies  less  definite  in  kind.  An  eddy 
in  the  river,  where  floating  sticks  are  whirled  round  and 
engulfed,  is  not  far  from  the  place  where  one  of  the  tribe 
was  drowned  and  never  seen  again.  What  more  manifest, 
then,  than  that  the  double  of  this  drowned  man,  malicious 
as  the  unburied  ever  are,  dwells  thereabouts,  and  pulls  these 
things  under  the  surface — nay,  in  revenge,  seizes  and  drags 
down  persons  who  venture  near?  When  those  who  knew 
the  drowned  man  are  all  dead — when,  after  generations, 
the  details  of  the  story,  thrust  aside  by  more  recent  stories, 
have  been  lost — and  especially  when  there  comes  some  con- 
quering tribe,  in  whose  past  history  the  local  stories  have 
no  roots;  there  survives  only  the  belief  in  a  water-demon 
haunting  the  place.*  And  so  throughout.  There  is  nothing 

*At  the  time  this  was  written,  I  had  met  with  no  fact  supporting  this  in- 
ference ;  but  the  work  of  Mr.  Bancroft  on  The  Native  Races  of  the  Pacific 
States,  has  since  furnished  me  with  one : — 

"  Leaving  this  locality  and  subject,  I  may  remark,  that  the  natives  have 
named  the  Pohono  Fall,  in  the  same  valley,  after  an  evil  spirit ;  many  persons 
having  been  swept  over  and  dashed  to  pieces  there.  No  native  of  the  vicinity 
will  so  much  as  point  at  this  fall  when  going  through  the  valley,  nor  could 
anything  tempt  one  of  them  to  sleep  near  it;  for  the  ghosts  of  the  drowned 
are  tossing  in  its  spray,  and  their  wail  is  heard  forever  above  the  hiss  of  itg 
rushing  waters." — See  vol.  iii,  p.  126. 


THE  IDEAS  OF  SUPERNATURAL  AGENTS.          223 

to  maintain  in  tradition  the  likenesses  between  the  ghosts 
and  the  individuals  they  were  derived  from ;  and  along  with 
innumerable  divergences,  there  comes  not  only  a  fading  of 
individual  traits,  but  also  at  length  a  fading  of  human  traits. 
Varieties  pass  into  species,  and  genera,  and  orders,  of  super- 
natural beings. 

§  119.  Of  course,  if  the  ghosts  of  the  dead,  passing 
gradually  into  less  distinct  but  still  personal  forms,  are  thus 
the  agents  supposed  to  work  all  the  notable  effects  in  the 
surrounding  world;  they  are  also  the  agents  supposed  to 
work  notable  effects  in  the  affairs  of  men.  Ever  at  hand 
and  moved  by  amity  or  enmity,  it  is  incredible  that  they 
should  not  interfere  with  human  actions.  The  soul  of  a  dead 
foe  is  on  the  watch  to  cause  an  accident;  the  soul  of  a  late 
relative  is  ready  to  help  and  to  guard  if  in  good  humour,  or, 
if  offended,  to  make  something  go  wrong. 

Hence  explanations,  universally  applicable,  of  successes 
and  failures.  Among  all  peoples  such  explanations  have 
prevailed:  differing  only  in  the  extent  to  which  the  aiding 
or  hindering  spirits  have  lost  the  human  character.  Low 
down  we  have  the  Veddah,  who  looks  to  the  shade  of  his 
dead  parent  or  child  to  give  him  success  in  the  chase,  and 
ascribes  a  bad  shot  to  the  lack  of  an  invocation;  we  have 
the  Australian  who,  "  if  a  man  tumbles  out  of  a  tree  and 
breaks  his  neck,"  thinks  that  "  his  life  has  been  charmed 
away  by  the  Boyala-men  of  another  tribe;  "  we  have  the 
Ashantees,  who  "  believe  that  the  spirits  of  their  departed 
relatives  exercise  a  guardian  care  over  them,"  and  that  "  the 
ghosts  of  departed  enemies  are  ...  bad  spirits,"  who  work 
mischief.  Higher  up  we  have,  among  the  Homeric  heroes, 
feats  of  arms  set  down  to  the  assistance  of  the  supernatural 
beings  who  join  in  the  battle.  With  Hector  "  one  at  least 
of  the  gods  is  ever  present,  who  wards  off  death;  "  and 
"  Menelaus  conquered  by  Minerva's  aid."  Diomed  is  un- 
scathed because  an  immortal  "  has  turned  into  another 


224  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

course  the  swift  shaft  just  about  to  hit  him;  "  Paris,  dragged 
by  the  helmet,  would  have  been  lost  had  not  Venus,  "  who 
quickly  perceived  it,  broke  for  him  the  thong;  "  and  Idseus 
escaped  only  because  "  Vulcan  snatched  him  away."  Be 
it  the  Araucanian  who  ascribes  success  to  the  aid  of  his  par- 
ticular fairy;  be  it  the  African  chief  Livingstone  names, 
who  thought  he  had  ensured  the  death  of  an  elephant  they 
were  attacking  by  emptying  his  snuff-box  as  an  offering  to 
the  Barimo;  be  it  the  Greek  whose  spear  is  well  fixed  in  a 
Trojan's  side  by  the  guiding  hand  of  his  favourite  deity; 
be  it  the  Jew's  ministering  angel  or  the  Catholic's  patron 
saint;  there  is  identity  in  essentials,  and  only  more  or  less 
of  difference  in  form.  The  question  is  solely  how  far  this 
evolution  of  the  ghosts  of  the  dead  into  supernatural  agents 
has  gone. 

§  120.  Lastly,  and  chiefly,  we  have  to  note  the  fact  that 
this  machinery  of  causation  which  the  primitive  man  is  in- 
evitably led  to  frame  for  himself,  fills  his  mind  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  any  other  machinery.  This  hypothesis  of  ghost- 
agency  gains  a  settled  occupation  of  the  field,  long  before 
there  is  either  the  power  or  the  opportunity  of  gathering 
together  and  organizing  the  experiences  which  yield  the 
hypothesis  of  physical-force-agency.  Even  among  ourselves, 
with  our  vast  accumulation  of  definite  knowledge,  and  our 
facilities  for  diffusing  it,  the  displacement  of  an  old  doctrine 
by  a  new  one  is  difficult.  Judge  then  its  difficulty  where 
the  few  facts  known  remain  ungeneralized,  unclassified,  un- 
measured ;  where  the  very  notions  of  order,  cause,  law,  are 
absent;  where  criticism  and  scepticism  are  but  incipient; 
and  where  there  is  not  even  the  curiosity  needful  to  prompt 
inquiry.  If,  parodying  a  common  adage,  we  may  fitly  say 
that  prepossession  is  nine  points  of  belief — if  this  is  so  even 
in  the  relatively-plastic  minds  of  the  civilized;  how  many 
points  of  belief  must  it  be  in  the  relatively-rigid  minds  of 
the  uncivilized? 


THE  IDEAS  OF  SUPERNATURAL  AGENTS.          225 

Hence  the  surprise  commonly  expressed  at  these  primi- 
tive interpretations  is  an  unwarranted  surprise.  If,  as  ]\ir. 
St.  John  tells  us,  the  Dyaks  never  take  the  natural  explana- 
tion of  any  phenomena,  such  as  an  accident,  but  always 
"  fly  to  their  superstitions;  "  they  fly  to  the  only  kind  of 
explanation  which  yet  exists  for  them.  The  absurdity  is 
in  supposing  that  the  uncivilized  man  possesses  at  the  outset 
the  idea  of  "  natural  explanation."  Only  as  societies  grow, 
arts  multiply,  experiences  accumulate,  and  constant  rela- 
tions of  phenomena  become  recognized,  registered,  and  fa- 
miliar, does  the  notion  of  natural  explanation  become  pos- 
sible. 

And  now,  having  seen  how  the  primitive  man  is  led  to 
think  of  the  activities  in  his  environment  as  controlled  by 
the  spirits  of  the  dead,  and  by  spirits  more  or  less  differen- 
tiated from  them,  let  us  observe  how  he  is  similarly  led  to 
think  of  such  spirits  as  controlling  the  activities  within  his 
bodv  and  within  the  bodies  of  other  men. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


SUPERNATURAL     AGENTS     AS     CAUSING     EPILEPSY     AND     CON- 
VULSIVE ACTIONS,  DELIRIUM  AND  INSANITY,  DISEASE  AND 


DEATH. 


§  121.  THE  phenomena  exhibited  during  evolution  can- 
not be  placed  in  serial  order.  Always  there  go  on  diverg- 
ences and  re-divergences.  Setting  out  with  the  primitive 
ideas  of  insensibility,  of  death,  and  of  the  ghost,  we  have 
traced  along  certain  lines  the  developing  ideas  of  another  life 
and  another  world;  and  along  other  lines  we  have  traced 
the  developing  ideas  of  supernatural  agents  as  existing  on 
all  sides.  Setting  out  afresh  from  the  insensible  body  as  the 
starting  point,  we  have  now  to  observe  how  a  further  class 
of  ideas  has  been  simultaneously  developing  by  the  aid  of 
those  we  have  considered. 

In  sleep,  in  swoon,  in  trance,  in  apoplexy,  there  is  almost 
complete  quiescence;  and  at  death  the  quiescence  becomes 
absolute.  Usually,  then,  during  the  supposed  absence  of 
the  other-self,  the  body  does  nothing.  But  sometimes  the 
body,  lying  on  the  ground  with  eyes  closed,  struggles  vio- 
lently; and,  after  the  ordinary  state  is  resumed,  the  indi- 
vidual denies  having  struggled — says  that  he  knows  nothing 
about  those  actions  of  his  body  which  the  spectators  saw. 
Obviously  his  other-self  has  been  away.  But  how  came  his 
body  to  behave  so  strangely  during  the  interval? 

The  answer  given  to  this  question  is  the  most  rational 

which  the  primitive  man  can  give. 

226 


SUPERNATURAL  AGENTS  AS  CAUSING  EPILEPSY,  ETC.  227 

§  122.  If,  during  insensibilities  of  all  kinds,  the  soul 
wanders,  and,  on  returning,  causes  the  body  to  resume  its 
activity — if  the  soul  can  thus  not  only  go  out  of  the  body 
but  can  go  into  it  again;  then  may  not  the  body  be  entered 
by  some  other  soul  ?  The  savage  thinks  it  may. 

Hence  the  interpretation  of  epilepsy.  The  Congo  people 
ascribe  epilepsy  to  demoniac  possession.  Among  the  East 
Africans,  "falling  sickness"  is  peculiarly  common;  and 
Burton  thinks  it  has  given  rise  to  the  prevalent  notion  of 
possession.  Of  Asiatic  races  may  be  instanced  the  Kal- 
mucks: by  these  nomads  epileptics  are  regarded  as  persons 
into  whom  bad  spirits  have  entered.  That  the  Jews  simi- 
larly explained  the  facts  is  clear;  and  the  Arabic  language 
has  the  same  word  for  epilepsy  and  possession  by  devils.  It 
is  needless  to  show  that  this  explanation  persisted  among  the 
civilized  up  to  comparatively-recent  times. 

The  original  inference  is,  then,  that  while  the  patient's 
other-self  has  gone  away,  some  disembodied  spirit,  usurping 
its  place,  uses  his  body  in  this  violent  way.  Where  we  have 
a  specific  account  of  the  conception  in  its  earliest  stage,  we 
learn  that  the  assumed  supernatural  agent  is  a  ghost.  From 
the  Amazulu  cross-examined  by  Bishop  Callaway,  there  is 
brought  out  the  statement  that  when  a  diviner  is  becoming 
possessed  by  the  Itongo  (ancestral  spirits),  "  he  has  slight 
convulsions."  Moreover,  a  witness  who  "  went  to  a  person 
with  a  familiar  spirit  to  inquire  respecting  a  boy  .  .  .  who 
had  convulsions,"  got  the  answer — "  he  is  affected  by  the 
ancestral  spirits." 

§  123.  A  further  question  comes  before  the  primitive 
mind,  and  a  further  rational  corollary  is  drawn,  which  de- 
velops into  a  series  of  curious  but  consistent  ideas. 

Occasionally  a  person,  while  still  conscious,  cannot  con- 
trol the  actions  of  his  body.  He  finds  himself  doing  some- 
thing without  willing  it,  or  even  in  spite  of  his  will.  Is  it, 
then,  that  another  soul  has  entered  him;  even  though  his 


228  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

own  soul  has  not  wandered  away?    An  affirmative  answer 
is  inevitable. 

Hence  the  explanation  of  hysteria,  with  its  uncontrolla- 
ble and  meaningless  laughs,  sobs,  and  cries.  Among  the 
Amazulu,  hysterical  symptoms  are  counted  as  traits  of  one 
who  is  becoming  an  Inyanga,  or  diviner — one  who  is  be- 
coming possessed.  The  remark  made  by  Parkyns  respecting 
the  Abyssinians,  that  "  the  greater  part  of  the  '  possessed  ' 
are  women,"  indicates  a  kindred  interpretation:  women 
being  so  much  more  liable  to  hysteria  than  men.  And  when 
we  read  in  Mariner,  that  among  the  Tongans  inspiration  is 
not  confined  to  the  priests,  but  is  sometimes  experienced  by 
others,  especially  females,  we  may  reasonably  conclude  that 
fits  of  hysterics  are  the  signs  of  inspiration  referred  to.  In- 
deed, is  not  one  of  the  symptoms  of  the  disorder  conclusive 
proof?  What  can  be  said  of  the  globus  hystericus — a  ball 
that  is  suddenly  felt  within  the  body — unless  it  is  this  al- 
leged possessing  spirit? 

Carried  thus  far,  the  explanation  has  to  be  carried  fur- 
ther. If  these  more  violent  actions  of  the  body,  performed 
in  defiance  of  the  will,  are  ascribable  to  a  usurping  demon, 
so,  too,  must  be  the  less  violent  actions  of  this  kind.  Hence 
the  primitive  theory  of  sneezing  and  yawning.  The  Ama- 
zulu regard  these  involuntary  actions  as  marks  of  possession. 
When  a  man  is  becoming  an  Inyanga, 

"his  head  begins  to  give  signs  of  what  is  about  to  happen.  He 
shows  that  he  is  about  to  be  a  diviner  by  yawning  again  and  again, 
and  by  sneezing  again  and  again.  And  men  say,  '  No  !  Truly  it 
seems  as  though  this  man  was  about  to  be  possessed  by  a  spirit.'  " 
In  other  cases  we  have  proof,  not  of  permanent  possession, 
but  of  temporary  possession,  being  inferred  from  the  sneeze. 
The  Khonds  dash  water  on  the  priest  when  they  wish  to 
consult  him.  He  sneezes,  and  becomes  inspired.  Of  course, 
there  is  nothing  to  determine  whether  this  possession  is  by 
a  friendly  or  by  an  unfriendly  spirit:  it  may  be,  as  among 
the  Zulus,  an  ancestral  ghost,  or,  as  among  other  peoples,  it 


SUPERNATURAL  AGENTS  AS  CAUSING  EPILEPSY,  ETC.  229 

may  be  a  malicious  demon.  But  be  the  sneeze,  as  with  the 
Moslem,  a  reason  for  asking  Allah  to  protect  him  against 
Satan  as  the  presumed  cause;  or  be  it,  as  with  the  Christian, 
the  occasion  of  a  now-unmeaning  "  God  bless  you  "  from  by- 
standers; or  be  it  the  ground  for  putting  faith  in  an  utter- 
ance as  inspired ;  the  root  idea  is  the  same :  some  intruding 
spirit  has  made  the  body  do  what  its  owner  did  not  intend. 

Two  kindred  interpretations  may  be  added.  Among  the 
Yakuts  there  is  a  disorder  accompanied  by  a  violent  hic- 
cough, and  "  they  persist  in  believing  that  a  devil  is  in  the 
body  of  the  person  afflicted."  A  neighbouring  people,  the 
Kirghiz,  furnish  a  still  stranger  instance.  Mrs.  Atkinson 
says  that  a  woman  in  child-bed  is  supposed  to  be  possessed 
by  a  devil ;  and  it  is  even  the  custom  to  beat  her  for  the  pur- 
pose of  driving  him  away. 

In  this  last  case,  as  in  all  the  others,  there  are  involun- 
tary muscular  contractions.  These  may  reasonably  be  as- 
cribed to  possession,  if  those  of  epilepsy  are  so ;  and  we  see 
that  the  ascription  of  epilepsy  to  possession  is  an  implication 
of  the  original  ghost-theory. 

§  124.  Certain  allied  phenomena,  explicable  in  like 
manner  and  otherwise  inexplicable,  further  confirm  the  doc- 
trine of  possession.  I  refer  to  the  phenomena  of  delirium 
and  madness. 

What  is  come  to  this  man  who,  lying  prostrate,  and  re- 
fusing to  eat,  does  not  know  those  around;  now  mutters 
incoherently  or  talks  nonsense ;  now  speaks  to  some  one  the 
bystanders  cannot  see;  now  shrinks  in  terror  from  an  in- 
visible foe;  now  laughs  without  a  cause?  And  how  does 
it  happen  that  when  he  has  become  calm  he  either  knows 
nothing  about  these  strange  doings  of  his,  or  narrates  things 
which  no  one  witnessed  ?  Manifestly  one  of  these  spirits  or 
ghosts,  swarming  around,  had  entered  his  body  at  night 
while  he  was  away,  and  had  thus  abused  it.  That  savages 
do  thus  interpret  the  facts  we  have  not  much  evidence: 
16 


230  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

probably  because  travellers  rarely  witness  among  them  this 
kind  of  mental  disturbance.  Still,  Petherick  says  the  Arabs 
suppose  that  "  in  high  fever,  when  a  person  is  delirious,  he 
is  possessed  by  the  devil." 

But  when  from  temporary  insanity  we  pass  to  permanent 
insanity,  we  everywhere  find  proof  that  this  is  the  inter- 
pretation given.  The  Samoans  attribute  madness  to  the 
presence  of  an  evil  spirit;  as  also  do  the  Tongans.  The 
Sumatrans,  too,  consider  that  lunatics  are  possessed.  Among 
more  advanced  races  the  interpretation  has  been,  and  still 
remains,  the  same.  When  the  writer  of  Rambles  in  Syria. 
tells  us  that,  "  in  the  East,  madness  is  tantamount  to  in- 
spiration," we  are  reminded  that  if  there  is  any  difference 
between  this  conception  and  the  conceptions  recorded  of 
old,  it  concerns  only  the  nature  of  the  possessing  spirit. 
These  earlier  records,  too,  yield  evidence  that  the  original 
form  of  the  belief  was  the  form  above  inferred.  "  Accord- 
ing to  Josephus,  demons  are  the  spirits  of  the  wicked  dead : 
they  enter  into  the  bodies  of  the  living."  As  the  possessed 
were  said  to  frequent  burial-places,  and  as  demons  were  sup- 
posed to  make  tombs  their  favourite  haunts,  we  may  con- 
clude that  by  Jews  in  general  the  possessing  spirit  was  at  first 
conceived  as  a  ghost. 

The  continuance  of  this  view  of  insanity  through  mediae- 
val days,  down  to  the  days  when  the  72nd  canon  of  our 
Church  tacitly  embodied  it  by  forbidding  the  casting  out 
of  devils  without  a  special  licence,  is  easy  to  understand. 
Only  after  science  had  made  familiar  the  idea  that  mental 
states  result  from  nervous  actions,  which  can  be  disordered 
by  physical  causes,  did  it  become  possible  to  conceive  the 
madman's  amazing  ideas  and  passions  in  any  other  way  than 
as  the  expressions  of  some  nature  unlike  his  own. 

We  must  not  overlook  a  verification  which  the  behaviour 
of  the  insane  yields  to  the  belief  in  surrounding  ghosts  or 
spirits.  The  uncivilized  or  semi-civilized  man  knows  noth- 
ing about  subjective  illusions.  What  then  must  he  think 


SUPERNATURAL  AGENTS  AS  CAUSING  EPILEPSY,  ETC.  23 1 

when  he  hears  a  maniac  talking  furiously  to  an  invisible 
person,  or  throwing  a  missile  at  some  being,  unseen  by 
others,  whom  he  wants  to  drive  away?  His  frantic  gestures, 
his  glaring  eyes,  his  shrieking  voice,  make  it  impossible  to 
doubt  the  strength  of  his  belief.  Obviously,  then,  there  are 
mischievous  demons  around:  manifest  to  him,  but  not  to 
bystanders.  Any  who  doubted  the  existence  of  supernat- 
ural agents  can  no  longer  doubt. 

One  further  noteworthy  idea  is  thus  yielded.  In  his 
paroxysms,  an  insane  person  is  extremely  strong — strong 
enough  to  cope  single-handed  with  several  men.  What  is 
the  inference?  The  possessing  demon  has  superhuman  en- 
ergy. The  belief  thus  suggested  has  developments  hereafter 
to  be  observed. 

§  125.  Once  established,  this  mode  of  explaining  un- 
usual actions,  mental  and  bodily,  extends  itself.  Insensibly 
it  spreads  from  abnormalities  of  the  kinds  above  instanced, 
to  those  of  other  kinds.  Diseases  are  soon  included  under 
the  theory.  As  in  fever  bodily  derangement  co-exists  with 
mental  derangement,  the  inference  is  that  the  same  agent 
causes  both.  And  if  some  unhealthy  states  are  produced  by 
indwelling  demons,  then  others  are  thus  produced.  A  ma- 
licious spirit  is  either  in  the  body,  or  is  hovering  around, 
inflicting  evil  on  it. 

The  primitive  form  of  this  interpretation  is  shown  us 
by  the  Amazulu.  Even  a  stitch  in  the  side  they  thus  ex- 
plain :  "  if  the  disease  lasts  a  long  time,"  they  say,  "  he  is 
affected  by  the  Itongo.  He  is  affected  by  his  people  who 
are  dead."  The  Samoans  supposed  that  the  spirits  of  the 
dead  "  had  power  to  return,  and  cause  disease  and  death  in 
other  members  of  the  family."  As  we  saw  in  §  92,  the  New 
Caledonians  "  think  white  men  are  the  spirits  of  the  dead, 
and  bring  sickness."  The  Dyaks  who,  like  the  Australians, 
attribute  every  disease  to  spirits,  like  them,  too,  personify 
diseases.  They  will  not  call  the  small-pox  by  its  name ;  but 


232  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

ask — "  Has  he  yet  left  you?  "  Sometimes  they  call  it  "  the 
chief."  In  these  cases  ghosts  are  the  assumed  agents;  and 
in  some  of  them,  occupation  of  the  sufferer's  body  is  alleged 
or  implied.  In  other  cases,  the  supernatural  agent,  not 
specified  in  its  origin,  appears  to  be  regarded  as  external. 
By  the  Arawaks,  pain  is  called  "  the  evil  spirit's  arrow;  " 
and  the  Land-Dyaks  believe  that  sickness  is  occasionally 
"  caused  by  spirits  inflicting  on  people  invisible  wounds  with 
invisible  spears."  But  everywhere  the  supposed  cause  is 
personal.  In  Asia,  the  Karens  "  attribute  diseases  to  the 
influence  of  unseen  spirits."  By  the  Lepchas,  all  ailments 
"  are  deemed  the  operations  of  devils;  "  as  also  by  the  Bodo 
and  Dhimals.  In  Africa,  the  Coast  Negroes  ascribe  illness 
to  witchcraft  or  the  operations  of  the  gods;  the  Koossas 
consider  it  caused  by  enemies  and  evil  spirits;  and  the  of- 
fended ancestor  of  a  Zulu  is  represented  as  saying — "  I  will 
reveal  myself  by  disease."  In  America,  the  Comanches 
think  a  malady  is  due  to  the  "  blasting  breath  "  of  a  foe; 
and  the  Mundrucus  regard  it  as  the  spell  of  an  unknown 
enemy. 

If  instead  of  "  ghost "  we  read  "  supernatural  agent," 
the  savage  theory  becomes  the  semi-civilized  theory.  The 
earliest  recorded  hero  of  the  Babylonians,  Izdubar,  is  smitten 
with  a  grievous  malady  by  the  offended  goddess  Ishtar.  In 
the  first  book  of  the  Iliad,  the  Greeks  who  die  of  pestilence 
are  represented  as  hit  by  Apollo's  arrows — an  idea  parallel 
to  one  of  the  savage  ideas  above  named.  It  was  believed  by 
the  Jews  that  dumbness  and  blindness  ceased  when  the 
devils  causing  them  were  ejected.  And  in  after-times,  the 
Fathers  held  that  demons  inflicted  diseases.  How 

persistent  this  kind  of  interpretation  has  been,  we  are  shown 
by  the  fact  that  the  production  of  illness  by  witches,  who 
instigate  devils,  is  even  now  alleged  among  the  uncultured ; 
and  by  the  fact  that  some  of  the  cultured  still  countenance 
the  belief  that  illness  is  diabolically  caused.  A  State- 
authorized  expression  of  this  theory  of  disease  is  often  re- 


SUPERNATURAL  AGENTS  AS  CAUSING  EPILEPSY,  ETC.  233 

peated  by  priests.  In  the  order  for  the  visitation  of  the 
sick,  one  of  the  prayers  is,  "  renew  in  him  "  "  whatsoever 
has  been  decayed  by  the  fraud  and  malice  of  the  devil." 

§  126.  After  contemplating  the  genesis  of  the  fore- 
going beliefs,  the  accompanying  belief  that  death  is  due  to 
supernatural  agency  will  no  longer  surprise  us. 

In  one  form  or  other  this  belief  occurs  everywhere.  The 
Uaupe  Indians,  Wallace  tells  us,  "  scarcely  seem  to  think 
that  death  can  occur  naturally;  "  and  Hearne  says  the 
Chippewayans  ascribe  the  deaths  of  their  chiefs  to  witch- 
craft— commonly  by  the  Esquimaux.  The  Kalmucks  be- 
lieve that  "  death  is  caused  by  some  spirit  at  the  command 
of  the  deity;  "  the  Kookies  attribute  death,  as  well  as  all 
earthly  evils,  to  supernatural  causes;  and  the  Khonds  hold 
"  that  death  is  not  the  necessary  and  appointed  lot  of  man, 
but  that  it  is  incurred  only  as  a  special  penalty  for  offences 
against  the  gods."  The  Bushmen  think  death  is  chiefly  due 
to  witchcraft;  and  by  the  Bechuanas,  death,  even  in  old 
age,  is  ascribed  to  sorcery.  The  Coast  Xegroes  think  "  no 
death  is  natural  or  accidental ;  "  Burton  says  that  "  in 
Africa,  as  in  Australia,  no  man,  however  old,  dies  a  natural 
death;  "  and  the  Loango  people  do  not  believe  in  natural 
death,  even  from  drowning  or  other  accident.  The  Tahi- 
tians  regarded  the  effects  of  poisons  as  "  more  the  effects  of 
the  god's  displeasure,  .  .  .  than  the  effects  of  the  poisons 
themselves.  .  .  .  Those  who  were  killed  in  battle  were  also 
supposed  to  die  from  the  influence  of  the  gods."  And  kin- 
dred ideas  are  current  among  the  Sandwich  Islanders,  the 
Tannese,  and  various  other  peoples. 

A  sequence  must  be  named.  Eventually  the  individu- 
alities of  the  particular  demons  supposed  to  have  caused 
death,  merge  in  a  general  individuality — a  personalized 
Death:  the  personalization  probably  beginning,  every- 
where, in  the  tradition  of  some  ferocious  foe  whose  directly- 
Been  acts  of  vengeance  were  multitudinous,  and  to  whom, 


234  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

afterwards,  unseen  acts  of  vengeance  were  more  and  more 
ascribed.  Be  this  as  it  may,  however,  we  may  trace  the 
evolution  of  these  primitive  notions  into  those  which  existed 
in  classic  times  and  mediaeval  times.  At  a  Naga's  burial, 
his  friends  arm  themselves,  and  challenge  the  spirit  who 
caused  his  death.  Of  the  Tasmanians,  Mr.  Davis  relates 
that,  "  during  the  whole  of  the  first  night  after  the  death  of 
one  of  their  tribe,  they  will  sit  round  the  body,  using  rapidly 
a  low,  continuous  recitative,  to  prevent  the  evil  spirit  from 
taking  it  away.  Such  evil  spirit  being  the  ghost  of  an 
enemy."  On  the  other  hand,  among  the  Kora-Hottentots 
the  conception  has  become  partially  generalized:  they  per- 
sonalize death — say  "  Death  sees  thee."  Which  several 
facts  show  us  the  root  of  the  belief  implied  by  the  story  of 
Alcestis,  who  is  rescued  from  the  grasp  of  the  strong  Death 
by  the  still  stronger  Hercules;  and  also  the  root  of  the  belief 
implied  by  the  old  representations  of  Death  as  a  skeleton, 
holding  a  dart  or  other  weapon. 

In  the  minds  of  many,  the  primitive  notion  still  lingers. 
When  reading  with  astonishment  that  savages,  not  recog- 
nizing natural  death,  ascribe  all  death  to  supernatural 
agency,  we  forget  that  even  now  supernatural  agency  is  as- 
signed in  cases  where  the  cause  of  death  is  not  obvious — nay, 
in  some  cases  where  it  is  obvious.  We  still  occasionally  read 
the  coroner's  verdict — "  Died  by  the  visitation  of  God;  " 
and  we  still  meet  people  who  think  certain  deaths  (say  the 
drownings  of  those  who  go  boating  on  Sundays)  directly 
result  from  divine  vengeance:  a  belief  differing  from  these 
savage  beliefs  only  in  a  modified  conception  of  the  super- 
natural agent. 

§  127.  Considered  thus  as  following  from  the  primitive 
interpretation  of  dreams,  and  consequent  theory  of  ghosts, 
souls,  or  spirits,  these  conclusions  are  quite  consistent. 

If  souls  can  leave  bodies  and  re-enter  them,  why  should 
not  bodies  be  entered  by  strange  souls,  while  their  own  souls 


SUPERNATURAL  AGENTS  AS  CAUSING  EPILEPSY,  ETC.  235 

are  absent?  If,  as  in  epilepsy,  the  body  performs  acts  which 
the  owner  denies  having  performed,  there  is  no  choice  but 
to  assume  such  an  agency.  And  if  certain  uncontrollable 
movements,  as  those  of  hysteria,  as  well  as  the  familiar  ones 
of  sneezing,  yawning,  and  hiccough,  take  place  involun- 
tarily, the  conclusion  must  be  that  some  usurping  spirit  di- 
rects the  actions  of  the  subject's  body  in  spite  of  him. 

This  hypothesis  explains,  too,  the  strange  behaviour  of 
the  delirious  and  the  insane.  That  a  maniac's  body  has  been 
taken  possession  of  by  an  enemy,  is  proved  by  the  fact  that 
it  is  impelled  to  self -injury.  Its  right  owner  would  not  make 
the  body  bite  and  tear  itself.  Further,  the  possessing  demon 
is  heard  to  hold  converse  with  other  demons,  which  he  sees 
but  which  bystanders  do  not  see. 

And  if  these  remarkable  derangements  of  body  and  mind 
are  thus  effected,  the  manifest  inference  is  that  diseases  and 
disorders  of  less  remarkable  kinds  are  effected  in  the  same 
way.  Should  there  not  be  a  demon  within  the  body,  there 
must  be,  at  any  rate,  some  invisible  enemy  at  hand,  who  is 
working  these  strange  perturbations  in  it. 

Often  occurring  after  long-continued  disease,  death  must 
be  caused  by  that  which  caused  the  disease.  Whenever  the 
death  has  no  visible  antecedent,  this  is  the  only  possible 
supposition;  and  even  when  there  is  a  visible  antecedent,  it 
is  still  probable  that  there  was  some  demoniacal  interference. 
The  giving  way  of  his  foothold  and  consequent  fatal  fall  of  a 
companion  down  a  precipice,  or  the  particular  motion  which 
carried  a  spear  into  his  heart,  was  very  likely  determined  by 
the  malicious  spirit  of  a  foe. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

INSPIRATION,    DIVINATION,    EXORCISM,    AND    SORCERY. 

§  128.  IF  a  man's  body  may  be  entered  by  a  "  wicked 
soul  of  the  dead  "  enemy,  may  it  not  be  entered  by  a  friendly 
soul?  If  the  struggles  of  the  epileptic,  the  ravings  of  the 
delirious,  the  self -in  juries  of  the  insane,  are  caused  by  an 
indwelling  demon;  then  must  not  the  transcendent  power 
or  marvellous  skill  occasionally  displayed,  be  caused  by  an 
indwelling  beneficent  spirit?  If,  even  while  a  man  is  con- 
scious, the  ghost  of  a  foe  may  become  joint  occupant  of  his 
body  and  control  its  actions  in  spite  of  him,  so  producing 
hiccough,  and  sneezing,  and  yawning;  may  not  joint  occu- 
pancy be  assumed  by  an  ancestral  ghost,  which  co-operates 
with  him  instead  of  opposing  him:  so  giving  extra  strength, 
or  knowledge,  or  cunning? 

These  questions  the  savage  consistently  answers  in  the 
affirmative.  There  result  the  ideas  to  be  here  glanced  at. 

§  129.  The  fact  that  maniacs,  during  their  paroxysms, 
are  far  stronger  than  men  in  their  normal  states,  raises,  as 
we  before  saw,  the  belief  that  these  supernatural  agents  have 
superhuman  energies. 

That  manifestations  of  unusual  will  and  strength  are 
thus  accounted  for,  we  find  proofs  among  early  traditions. 
Encouraging  Diomede,  Minerva  says — "  In  thy  breast  have 
I  set  thy  father's  courage  undaunted,  even  as  it  was  in 
knightly  Tydeus:  "  words  implying  some  kind  of  inspira- 

236 


INSPIRATION,  DIVINATION,  EXORCISM,  AND  SORCERY.  237 

tion — some  breathing-in  of  a  soul  that  had  been  breathed- 
out  of  a  father.  More  distinctly  is  this  implied  by  certain 
legendary  histories  of  the  Egyptians.  In  the  third  Sallier 
papyrus,  narrating  a  conquest,  Ramses  II  invokes  his  "  fa- 
ther Ammon,"  and  has  the  reply — "  Ramses  Miamon,  I 
am  with  thee,  I  thy  father  Ra.  ...  I  am  worth  to  thee 
100,000  joined  in  one."  And  when  Ramses,  deserted  by 
his  own  army,  proceeds  single-handed  to  slay  the  army  of 
his  foes,  they  are  represented  as  saying — "  i^o  mortal  born 
is  he  whoso  is  among  us." 

Here  several  points  of  significance  are  observable.  The 
ancestral  ghost  was  the  possessing  spirit,  giving  superhuman 
strength.  Along  with  development  of  this  ancestral  ghost 
into  a  great  divinity  had  gone  increase  of  this  strength  from 
something  a  little  above  the  human  to  something  immeasur- 
ably above  the  human.  The  conception,  common  to  all  these 
ancient  races — Egyptians,  Babylonians,  Assyrians,  Greeks 
— was  that  gods,  otherwise  much  like  men,  were  distin- 
guished by  power  transcending  that  of  men;  and  this  con- 
ception, subject  to  no  restraint,  readily  expanded  into  the 
conception  of  omnipotence.  A  concomitant  result  was  that 
any  display  of  bodily  energy  exceeding  that  which  was  or- 
dinary, raised  in  observers  the  suspicion,  either  that  there 
was  possession  by  a  supernatural  being,  or  that  a  supernat- 
ural being  in  disguise  was  before  them. 

§  130.  Similarly  with  extraordinary  mental  power.  If 
an  incarnate  spirit,  having  either  the  primitive  character  of 
an  ancestral  ghost  or  some  modified  and  developed  character, 
can  give  superhuman  strength  of  body,  then  it  can  give,  too, 
superhuman  intelligence  and  superhuman  passion. 

We  are  now  so  remote  from  this  doctrine  of  inspiration, 
as  to  have  difficulty  in  thinking  of  it  as  once  accepted  liter- 
ally. Some  existing  races,  as  the  Tahitians,  do  indeed  show 
us,  in  its  original  form,  the  belief  that  the  priest  when  in- 
spired "  ceased  to  act  or  speak  as  a  voluntary  agent,  but 


238  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

moved  and  spoke  as  entirely  under  supernatural  influence;  " 
and  so  they  make  real  to  us  the  ancient  belief  that  prophets 
were  channels  for  divine  utterances.  But  we  less  clearly 
recognize  the  truth  that  the  inspiration  of  the  poet  was  at 
first  conceived  in  the  same  way.  "  Sing,  O  goddess,  the  de- 
structive wrath  of  Achilles,"  was  not,  like  the  invocations 
of  the  Muses  in  later  times,  a  rhetorical  form;  but  was  an 
actual  prayer  for  possession.  The  Homeric  belief  was,  that 
"  all  great  and  glorious  thoughts  .  .  .  come  from  a  god." 
Of  course,  this  mode  of  interpreting  ideas  and  feelings 
admits  of  unlimited  extension;  and  hence  the  assumption 
of  a  supernatural  cause,  made  on  the  smallest  suggestion, 
becomes  habitual.  In  the  Iliad,  Helen  is  represented  as  hav- 
ing an  ordinary  emotion  excited  in  her  by  Iris;  who  "  put 
into  her  heart,  sweet  longing  for  her  former  husband,  and 
her  city,  and  parents."  Xor  does  the  interpretation  extend 
itself  only  to  exaltations,  emotional  or  intellectual.  In  the 
Homeric  view,  "  not  the  doers  of  an  evil  deed,  but  the  gods 
who  inspire  the  purpose  of  doing  it,  are  the  real  criminals ;  " 
and  even  a  common  error  of  judgment  the  early  Greek  ex- 
plains by  saying — "  a  god  deceived  me  that  I  did  this  thing." 
How  this  theory,  beginning  with  that  form  still  shown  us 
by  such  savages  as  the  Congoese,  who  ascribe  the  contortions 
of  the  priest  to  the  inspiration  of  the  fetish,  and  differen- 
tiating into  inspirations  of  the  divine  and  the  diabolical 
kinds,  has  persisted  and  developed,  it  is  needless  to  show  in 
detail.  It  still  lives  in  both  sacred  and  secular  thought;  and 
between  the  earliest  and  latest  views  the  unlikeness  is  far  less 
than  we  suppose.  When  we  read  in  Brinton  that  "  among 
the  Tahkalis  the  priest  is  accustomed  to  lay  his  hand  on  the 
head  of  the  nearest  relative  of  the  deceased,  and  to  blow  into 
him  the  soul  of  the  departed,  which  is  supposed  to  come  to 
life  in  his  next  child;  "  we  are  reminded  that  in  the  service 
for  ordaining  priests  there  are  the  words — "  Receive  the 
Holy  Ghost  for  the  office  and  work  of  a  priest  in  the  Church 
of  God,  now  committed  unto  thee  by  the  imposition  of  our 


INSPIRATION,  DIVINATION,  EXORCISM,  AND  SORCERY.  239 

hands."  Not  only  in  the  theory  of  Apostolic  Succession  do 
we  see  this  modified  form  of  the  savage  belief  in  inspiration, 
but  we  see  it,  with  a  difference,  in  the  ideas  of  the  most  un- 
sacerdotal  of  our  sects,  the  Quakers.  Being  moved  by  the 
spirit,  as  they  understand  it,  is  being  temporarily  possessed 
or  inspired.  And  then,  in  its  secular  application,  the  primi- 
tive notion  has  left  a  trace  in  the  qualitative  distinction,  still 
asserted  by  some,  between  genius  and  talent. 

§  131.  There  is  but  a  nominal  difference  between  the 
facts  just  grouped  under  the  head  of  inspiration,  and  the 
facts  to  be  grouped  under  the  head  of  divination.  The  di- 
viner is  simply  the  inspired  man  using  his  supernatural 
power  for  particular  ends. 

The  ideas  of  the  Amazulu,  which  have  been  so  carefully 
ascertained,  we  may  again  take  as  typical.  Mark,  first,  that 
bodily  derangement,  leading  to  mental  perturbation,  is  the 
usual  preliminary.  Fasting  is  requisite.  They  say  "  the 
continually-stuffed  body  cannot  see  secret  things."  More- 
over, "  a  man  who  is  about  to  be  an  inyanga  .  .  .  does  not 
sleep,  .  .  .  his  sleep  is  merely  by  snatches,"  "  he  becomes 
a  house  of  dreams."  Mark,  next,  that  mental  perturbation, 
rising  to  a  certain  point,  is  taken  as  proof  of  inspiration. 
"Where  the  evidence  is  not  strong,  "  some  dispute  and  say, 
'  No.  The  fellow  is  merely  mad.  There  is  no  Itongo  [an- 
cestral ghost]  in  him.'  Others  say, '  O,  there  is  an  Itongo  in 
him;  he  is  already  an  inyanga.' '  And  then  mark,  further, 
that  the  alleged  possession  is  proved  by  his  success :  doubters 
say — "  We  might  allow  that  he  is  an  inyanga  if  you  had  con- 
cealed things  for  him  to  find,  and  he  had  discovered  what  you 
had  concealed." 

The  conception  here  so  clearly  implied  is  traceable  in  all 
cases:  the  chief  difference  being  in  the  supposed  nature  of 
the  indwelling  supernatural  agent.  Such  mode  of  living  as 
produces  abnormal  excitement,  is  everywhere  a  preparation 
for  the  diviner's  office.  Everywhere,  too,  this  excitement  is 


24:0  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ascribed  to  the  possessing  ghost,  demon,  or  divinity ;  and  the 
words  uttered  are  his.  Of  the  inspired  Fijian  priest,  Wil- 
liams says : — 

"All  his  words  and  actions  are  considered  as  no  longer  his  own, 
but  those  of  the  deity  who  has  entered  into  him.  .  .  .  While  giving 
the  answer,  the  priest's  eyes  stand  out  and  roll  as  in  a  frenzy;  his 
voice  is  unnatural,  his  face  pale,  his  lips  livid,  his  breathing  depressed, 
and  his  entire  appearance  like  that  of  a  furious  madman." 

And  just  the  same  constituents  of  the  belief  are  shown  by 
the  Santals.  Starving  many  days,  the  Santal  priest  brings 
on  a  state  of  half  wildness.  He  then  answers  questions 
through  the  power  of  the  possessing  god.  And  in  the  case 
named  by  Sherwill,  this  god  was  "  formerly  a  chief  amongst 
them." 

The  views  of  the  semi-civilized  and  civilized  need  men- 
tion only  to  show  their  kinship.  As  represented  by  Homer, 
"  the  gods  maintain  an  intercourse  with  men  as  part  of  the 
ordinary  course  of  their  providence,  and  this  intercourse 
consists  principally  in  revelations  of  the  divine  will,  and  spe- 
cially of  future  events,  made  to  men  by  oracular  voices," 
etc.  Here  we  are  shown  likeness  in  nature,  though  some 
un  likeness  in  form,  between  the  utterances  of  the  Greek 
oracle  and  those  of  the  Zulu  Inyanga,  to  whom  the  ancestral 
ghost  says — "  You  will  not  speak  with  the  people ;  they 
will  be  told  by  us  everything  they  come  to  inquire  about." 
Greater  deviation  in  non-essentials  has  left  unchanged  the 
same  essentials  in  the  notions  current  throughout  Christen- 
dom; beginning  with  the  "  inspired  writers,"  whose  words 
were  supposed  to  be  those  of  an  indwelling  holy  spirit,  and 
ending  with  the  Pope,  who  says  his  infallible  judgments 
have  a  like  origin. 

§  132.  Inevitably  there  comes  a  further  development  of 
these  ideas.  When  the  ghost  of  an  enemy  has  entered  a 
man's  body,  can  it  not  be  driven  out?  And  if  this  cannot 
otherwise  be  done,  can  it  not  be  done  by  supernatural  aid? 


INSPIRATION,  DIVINATION,  EXORCISM,  AND  SORCERY. 

If  some  men  are  possessed  to  their  hurt  by  spirits  of  evil, 
while  others  are  possessed  to  their  benefit  by  friendly  spirits, 
as  powerful  or  more  powerful,  is  it  not  possible  by  the  help 
of  the  good  spirits  to  undo  the  mischief  done  by  the  bad 
ones — perhaps  to  conquer  and  expel  them?  This  possibility 
is  reasonably  to  be  inferred.  Hence  exorcism. 

The  medicine-man  is  primarily  an  exorcist.  What  Row- 
latt  tells  us  of  the  Mishmis,  that,  in  illness,  a  priest  is  sent 
for  to  drive  away  the  evil  spirit,  is  told  us  directly  or  by  im- 
plication in  hosts  of  instances.  The  original  method  is  that 
of  making  the  patient's  body  so  disagreeable  a  residence  that 
the  demon  will  not  remain  in  it.  In  some  cases  very  heroic 
modes  of  doing  this  are  adopted ;  as  by  the  Sumatrans,  who, 
in  insanity,  try  to  expel  the  spirit  by  putting  the  insane 
person  into  a  hut,  which  they  set  fire  to,  leaving  him  to 
escape  as  he  best  can.  Probably  various  other  extreme 
measures  described,  including  the  swallowing  of  horrible 
things,  and  the  making  intolerable  smells,  have  the  pur- 
pose of  disgusting  the  intruder.  Generally,  also,  the  exor- 
cist tries  to  alarm  the  mischievous  tenants  by  shouts,  and 
gesticulations,  and  fearful  faces.  Among  the  Californian 
tribes,  the  doctor  "  squats  down  opposite  the  patient  and 
barks  at  him  after  the  manner  of  an  enraged  cur,  for  hours 
together;  "  and  a  Koniaga-doctor  has  a  female  assistant 
who  does  the  groaning  and  growling.  Sometimes  with  other 
means  is  joined  physical  force.  Among  the  Columbian  In- 
dians, the  medicine-man  "  proceeds  to  force  the  evil  spirit 
from  the  sick  man  by  pressing  both  clenched  fists  with  all 
his  might  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach."  As  a  type  of  such  pro- 
cesses may  be  taken  that  ascribed  by  Herrera  to  the  Indians 
of  Cumana : — 

"If  the  disease  increased,  they  said  the  patient  was  possessed 
•with  spirits,  stroked  all  the  body  over,  used  words  of  enchantment, 
licked  some  joints,  and  sucked,  saying  they  drew  out  spirits;  took  a 
twig  of  a  certain  tree,  the  virtue  whereof  none  but  the  physician 
knew,  tickled  their  own  throats  with  it,  till  they  vomited  and  bled, 


242  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

sighed,  roared,  quaked,  stamped,  made  a  thousand  faces,  sweated  for 
two  hours,  and  at  last  brought  up  a  sort  of  thick  phlegm,  with  a  little, 
hard,  black  ball  in  the  middle  of  it,  which  those  that  belonged  to  the 
sick  person  carried  into  the  field,  saying — 'Go  thy  way,  Devil.'" 
But  in  what  we  may  consider  the  more-developed  form  of 
exorcism,  one  demon  is  employed  to  drive  out  another.  The 
medicine-man  or  priest  conquers  the  demon  in  the  patient  by 
the  help  of  a  demon  with  which  he  is  himself  possessed ;  or 
else  he  summons  a  friendly  supernatural  power  to  his  aid. 

Everyone  knows  that,  in  this  last  form,  exorcism  con- 
tinues during  civilization.  In  their  earlier  days  the  Hebrews 
employed  some  physical  process,  akin  to  the  processes  we 
find  among  savages;  such  as  making  a  dreadful  stench  by 
burning  the  heart  and  liver  of  a  fish.  Through  such  ex- 
orcism, taught  by  the  angel  Raphael,  the  demon  Asmodeus 
was  driven  out — fled  to  Egypt  when  he  "  had  smelled  "  the 
smoke.  But  later,  as  in  the  exorcisms  of  Christ,  the  physical 
process  was  replaced  by  the  compulsion  of  superior  super- 
natural agency.  In  this  form  exorcism  still  exists  in  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church,  which  has  specially-ordained  ex- 
orcists ;  and  it  was  daily  practised  in  the  Church  of  England 
in  the  time  of  Edward  VI,  when  infants  were  exorcized 
before  baptism,  in  the  words — "  I  command  thee,  unclean 
spirit,  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  of  the  Son,  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  that  thou  come  out,  and  depart  from  these  in- 
fants." Occasional  exorcism  continued  till  1665,  if  not 
later:  a  clergyman  named  Ruddle,  licensed  to  exorcize  by 
the  Bishop  of  Exeter,  having  then,  according  to  his  own 
account,  succeeded  in  laying  the  ghost  of  a  woman,  by  using 
the  means  appointed  for  dealing  with  demons — magic  circle, 
"  pentacle,"  etc.  Nor  is  this  all.  It  has  been  an  ecclesiasti- 
cal usage,  lasting  down  to  Protestant  times,  to  exorcize  the 
water  used  in  divine  service :  a  practice  implying  the  primi- 
tive notion  that  invisible  demons  swarm  everywhere  around. 

In  this,  as  in  other  cases,  we  may  still  trace  the  original 
nature  of  the  supernatural  agent.  Malicious  ghosts  which 


I 

INSPIRATION,  DIVINATION,  EXORCISM,  AND  SORCERY.  243 

annoy  the  living  because  their  bodies  have  been  ill-treated, 
differ  but  little  from  evil  spirits  which  vex  the  living  by 
possessing  them.  The  instance  given  above,  clearly  implies 
that  the  laying  of  ghosts  and  the  exorcism  of  demons,  are 
but  modifications  of  the  same  thing.  The  Amazulu  show 
the  two  in  undistinguishable  forms.  Concerning  a  woman 
persecuted  by  the  ghost  of  her  dead  husband,  we  read: — 
"If  it  trouble  her  when  she  has  gone  to  another  man  without 
being  as  yet  married ;  if  she  has  left  her  husband's  children  behind, 
the  dead  husband  follows  her  and  asks,  '  With  whom  have  you  left 
my  children  ?  What  are  you  going  to  do  here  ?  Go  back  to  my 
children.  If  you  do  not  assent  I  will  kill  you.'  The  spirit  is  at  once 
laid  in  that  village  because  it  harasses  the  woman." 

Of  course,  as  civilization  advances,  the  processes  differ- 
entiate; so  that  while  evil  spirits  are  commanded  or  con- 
jured, ghosts  are  pacified  by  fulfilling  their  requests.  But 
since  the  meanings  of  ghost,  spirit,  demon,  devil,  angel,  were 
at  first  the  same,  we  may  infer  that  what  eventually  became 
the  casting  out  of  a  devil,  was  originally  an  expulsion  of  the 
malicious  double  of  a  dead  man. 

§  133.  A  medicine-man  who,  helped  by  friendly  ghosts, 
expels  malicious  ghosts,  naturally  asks  himself  whether  he 
may  not  get  ghostly  aid  for  other  purposes.  Can  he  not  by 
such  aid  revenge  himself  on  enemies,  or  achieve  ends  not 
else  possible?  The  belief  that  he  can  initiates  sorcery. 

A  primitive  form  of  this  belief  is  shown  us  by  the  Kaf- 
firs, who  think  dead  bodies  are  restored  to  life  by  bad  per- 
sons, and  made  hobgoblins  to  aid  them  in  mischief.  Here 
we  have  direct  identification  of  the  familiar  demon  with  the 
deceased  man.  When  we  read  that  the  Tahitians  think 
sickness  and  death  are  produced  by  the  incantations  of 
priests,  who  induce  the  evil  spirits  to  enter  the  sick ;  or  when 
we  read  that  most  misfortunes  are  attributed  by  the  Aus- 
tralians "  to  the  power  which  hostile  tribes  possess  over  the 
spirits  and  demons  which  infest  every  corner  of  the  land ;  " 


244  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

we  recognize  the  same  notion  less  specifically  stated.  In 
the  fact  that  by  Jewish  writers  "  a  necromancer  is  defined 
as  one  who  fasts  and  lodges  at  night  amongst  tombs,  in  order 
that  the  evil  spirit  may  come  upon  him ;  "  we  have  a  hint  of 
a  kindred  belief  in  an  early  historic  race.  And  we  see  the 
connexion  between  these  original  forms  of  the  conception 
and  those  derived  forms  of  it  which  have  survived  among 
the  more  civilized. 

The  operations  of  the  sorcerer,  having  for  their  primary 
end  the  gaming  of  power  over  a  living  person,  and  having 
for  their  secondary  end  (which  eventually  becomes  predomi- 
nant) the  gaining  of  power  over  the  souls  of  dead  persons, 
or  supernatural  agents  otherwise  conceived,  are  guided  by 
a  notion  which  it  will  be  instructive  to  consider. 

In  §  52  it  was  shown  why,  originally,  the  special  power 
or  property  of  an  object  is  supposed  to  be  present  in  all  its 
parts.  This  mode  of  thinking,  we  saw,  prompted  certain 
actions.  Others  such  may  here  be  instanced.  The  belief 
that  the  qualities  of  any  individual  are  appropriated  by  eat- 
ing him,  is  illustrated  by  the  statement  of  Stanbridge,  that 
when  the  Australians  kill  an  infant,  they  feed  a  previously- 
born  child  with  it;  believing  "  that  by  its  eating  as  much 
as  possible  of  the  roasted  infant,  it  will  possess  the  strength 
of  both."  Elsewhere,  dead  relatives  are  consumed  in  pur- 
suance of  an  allied  belief.  We  read  of  the  Cucamas  that 
"  as  soon  as  a  relation  died,  these  people  assembled  and  ate 
him  roasted  or  boiled,  according  as  he  was  thin  or  fat."  The 
Tarianas  and  Tucdnos,  who  drink  the  ashes  of  their  rela- 
tives, "  believe  that  thus  the  virtues  of  the  deceased  will  be 
transmitted  to  the  drinkers;  "  and  an  allied  people,  the  Ara- 
waks,  think  it  "  the  highest  mark  of  honour  they  could  pay 
to  the  dead,  to  drink  their  powdered  bones  mixed  in  water." 
Scarcely  less  significant  is  a  custom  of  the  whale-fishing 
Koniagas.  "  When  a  whaler  dies,  the  body  is  cut  into  small 
pieces  and  distributed  among  his  fellow-craftsmen,  each  of 
whom,  after  rubbing  the  point  of  his  lance  upon  it,  dries  and 


INSPIRATION,  DIVINATION,  EXORCISM,  AND  SORCERY.  245 

preserves  his  piece  as  a  sort  of  talisman.  Or  the  body  is 
placed  in  a  distant  cave,  where,  before  setting  out  upon  a 
chase,  the  whalers  all  congregate,  take  it  out,  carry  it  to  a 
stream,  immerse  it,  and  then  drink  of  the  water."  The 

particular  virtue  possessed  by  an  aggregate  is  supposed  not 
only  to  inhere  in  all  parts  of  it,  but  to  extend  to  whatever 
is  associated  with  it.  Even  its  appearance  is  regarded  as  a 
property  which  cannot  exist  apart  from  its  other  properties. 
Hence  the  dislike  often  shown  by  savages  to  having  their 
portraits  taken.  Along  with  this  lively  representation  they 
think  there  must  go  some  part  of  the  life.  A  belief  like 
that  of  the  Chinooks  who,  if  photographed,  "  fancied  that 
their  spirit  thus  passed  into  the  keeping  of  others,  who 
could  torment  it  at  pleasure,"  or  that  of  the  Mapuche's,  who 
hold  that  to  have  a  man's  likeness  is  to  have  a  fatal  power 
over  him,  will  be  fully  exemplified  hereafter  under  another 
head.  For  the  present,  it  must  suffice  to  name  this  belief, 
as  further  showing  the  ways  in  which  unanalytical  concep- 
tions of  things  work  out.  One  more  way  must 
be  added.  Even  with  the  name,  there  is  this  association. 
The  idea  betrayed  by  our  own  uncultured  that  some  intrinsic 
connexion  exists  between  word  and  thing  (an  idea  which 
even  the  cultured  among  the  Greeks  did  not  get  rid  of)  is 
betrayed  still  more  distinctly  by  savages.  From  all  parts 
of  the  world  come  illustrations  of  the  desire  to  keep  a  name 
secret.  Burton  remarks  it  of  North  Americans,  and  Smith 
of  some  South  Americans.  The  motive  for  this  secrecy  was 
clearly  expressed  by  the  Chinook  who  thought  Kane's  de- 
sire to  know  his  name  proceeded  from  a  wish  to  steal  it. 
Indeed,  as  Bancroft  puts  it,  "  with  them  the  name  assumes 
a  personality ;  it  is  the  shadow  or  spirit,  or  other-self,  of  the 
flesh  and  blood  person."  An  allied  interpretation  is  shown 
among  the  Land-Dyaks,  who  often  change  the  names  of  their 
children,  especially  if  they  are  sickly :  "  there  being  an  idea 
that  they  will  deceive  the  inimical  spirits  by  following  this 
practice."  And  in  another  direction  this  belief  works  out 
17 


246  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

in  the  widely-prevalent  repugnance  to  naming  the  dead. 
That  which  Dove  tells  us  of  the  Tasmanians,  that  they  fear 
"  pronouncing  the  name  by  which  a  deceased  friend  was 
known,  as  if  his  shade  might  thus  be  offended,"  is  told  us, 
with  or  without  the  assigned  motive,  by  travellers  from 
many  regions. 

The  facts  thus  grouped  make  sufficiently  clear  the  gene- 
sis of  the  sorcerer's  beliefs  and  practices.  Everywhere  he 
begins  by  obtaining  a  part  of  his  victim's  body,  or  something 
closely  associated  with  his  body,  or  else  by  making  a  repre- 
sentation of  him;  and  then  he  does  to  this  part,  or  this 
representation,  something  which  he  thinks  is  thereby  done 
to  his  victim.  The  Patagonians  hold  that  possession  of  a 
man's  hair  or  nails  enables  the  magician  to  work  evil  on  him ; 
and  this  is  the  general  conception.  New  Zealanders  "  all 
dread  cutting  their  nails  "  for  this  reason.  By  the  Amazulu, 
"  sorcerers  are  supposed  to  destroy  their  victims  by  taking 
some  portion  of  their  bodies,  as  hair  or  nails ;  or  something 
that  has  been  worn  next  their  person,  as  a  piece  of  old  gar- 
ment, and  adding  to  it  certain  medicines,  which  is  then 
buried  in  some  secret  place."  Ancient  Peruvian  magicians 
did  the  like  by  acting  on  blood  taken  from  them.  Among 
the  Tannese  this  fatal  power  over  any  one  is  exercised  by 
operating  on  the  remnants  of  his  meals.  Probably  the  idea 
is  that  these  remnants  continue  to  be  connected  with  the 
portions  he  has  eaten,  and  that  have  become  part  of  him. 
They  believe  that — 

"men  can  create  disease  and  death  by  burning  what  is  called 
nahak.  Nahak  means  rubbish,  but  principally  refuse  of  food.  Every- 
thing of  the  kind  they  bury  or  throw  into  the  sea,  lest  the  disease- 
makers  should  get  hold  of  it.  ...  If  a  disease-maker  was  ill  him- 
self, he  felt  sure  that  some  one  must  be  burning  his  nahak."  . 
Spells  which  originate  in  the  belief  that  a  representation  is 
physically  connected  with  the  thing  represented,  might  be 
exemplified  from  societies  in  all  stages.  Keating  tells  us  of 
the  Chippewas,  that  a  sorcerer  transfers  a  disease  by  making 


INSPIRATION,  DIVINATION,  EXORCISM,  AND  SORCERY.  247 

a  "  wooden  image  of  his  patient's  enemy,"  piercing  it  to  the 
heart,  and  introducing  powders:  a  method  identical  with 
methods  indicated  in  tales  of  European  witchcraft. 

Turning  from  this  simpler  form  of  magic  to  the  form 
in  which  supernatural  agents  are  employed,  there  comes  the 
question — Does  not  the  second  grow  out  of  the  first?  Rea- 
sons exist  for  thinking  that  it  does.  On  remembering  how 
small  a  difference  the  primitive  man  recognizes  between  the 
living  and  the  dead,  we  may  suspect  that  he  thinks  the  two 
can  be  similarly  acted  upon.  If  possessing  a  portion  of  a 
living  man  gives  power  over  him,  will  not  possessing  a  por- 
tion of  a  dead  man  give  power  over  him  too  ?  That  by  some 
peoples  the  deceased  is  supposed  to  have  need  of  all  his 
parts,  has  already  been  shown.  We  saw,  in  §  88,  that  the 
Mexicans  put  his  bones  where  he  could  easily  find  them  at 
the  resurrection;  and  that  a  dead  Peruvian's  hair  and  nails 
were  preserved  for  him  in  one  place.  A  like  custom  has  a 
like  assigned  reason  among  the  Inland  Negroes  in  Ardrah. 
Is  there  not,  then,  the  implication  that  one  who  obtains  such 
relics  thereby  obtains  a  means  of  hurting,  and  therefore  of 
coercing,  the  dead  owner?  Accept  this  implication,  and  the 
meaning  of  enchantments  becomes  clear.  Habitually  there 
is  destructive  usage;  and  habitually  the  things  bruised,  or 
burned,  or  boiled,  are  fragments  of  dead  things,  brute  or 
human,  but  especially  human.  Speaking  of  the  Ancient 
Peruvians,  Arriaga  says  that  by  "  a  certain  powder  ground 
from  the  bones  of  the  dead,"  a  sorcerer  "  stupifies  all  in  the 
house."  During  early  times  in  Europe,  it  was  thought  dan- 
gerous "  to  leave  corpses  unguarded,  lest  they  should  be 
mangled  by  the  witches,  who  took  from  them  the  most 
choice  ingredients  composing  their  charms."  Our  own  Par- 
liament, so  late  even  as  1604,  enacted  a  death-penalty  on 
any  one  who  exhumed  a  corpse,  or  any  part  of  it,  to  be  used 
in  "  witchcrafte,  sorcerie,  charme,  or  inchantment."  Por- 
tions of  the  dead  man  having  been  the  elements  originally 
used,  and  such  portions  having  repulsiveness  as  their  most 


THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

conspicuous  trait,  repulsive  things  in  general  naturally  sug- 
gested themselves  as  things  likely  to  strengthen  the  "  hell- 
broth."  Especially  if  animal-souls,  or  the  souls  of  meta- 
morphosed human  beings,  were  to  be  coerced,  there  might 
be  looked  for  those  strange  mixtures  of  "  eye  of  newt, 
and  toe  of  frog,"  etc.,  which  the  witch-cauldron  con- 
tains.* That  some  such  relationship  exists  be- 
tween the  arts  of  the  necromancer  and  these  ideas  of  the 

*  Just  after  this  was  written,  there  came  to  me  a  striking  verification  of 
the  inference  drawn  in  it.  In  a  letter  of  thanks  to  Mr.  Bancroft,  for  the 
first  volume  of  his  Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  States,  having  implied  that  I 
greatly  valued,  for  my  own  purposes,  his  laborious  compilation,  Mr.  Bancroft 
was  so  obliging  as  to  send  me  forthwith  the  proofs  of  large  parts  of  the  re- 
maining volumes.  In  those  of  Vol.  Ill,  a  paragraph  on  p.  147  describes  the 
initiation  of  a  shaman  among  the  Thlinkeets.  Going  to  the  woods,  and  feed- 
ing for  some  weeks  " only  on  the  roots  of  the  panax-horridum"  he  waits  till 
"  the  chief  of  the  spirits ?1  [who  is  an  ancestral  shaman]  sends  him  "  a  river- 
otter,  in  the  tongue  of  which  animal  is  supposed  to  be  hid  the  whole  power 
and  secret  of  shamanism.  ...  If,  however,  the  spirits  will  not  visit  the 
would-be  shaman,  nor  give  him  any  opportunity  to  get  the  otter  tongue  as 
described  above,  the  neophyte  visits  the  tomb  of  a  dead  shaman  and  keeps 
an  awful  vigil  over  night,  holding  in  his  living  mouth  a  finger  of  the  dead 
man  or  one  of  his  teeth ;  this  constrains  the  spirits  very  powerfully  to  send 
the  necessary  otter." 

Here,  more  fitly  than  elsewhere,  I  may  point  out  that  we  thus  get  an  ex- 
planation of  amulets.  Portions  of  dead  men  and  dead  animals,  though  not 
exclusively  the  things  used  for  them,  are  the  ordinary  things.  That  which  the 
sorcerer  employs  as  an  instrument  of  coercion,  is,  when  a  talisman,  held  as 
securing  the  good  offices  of  the  ghost,  or  as  a  protect  ion  against  it.  The  cus- 
tom, common  among  savages,  of  wearing  about  them  bones  of  dead  relatives, 
has  probably  this  meaning ;  which,  as  we  saw,  was  the  avowed  meaning  of 
the  Koniaga-whalers  in  keeping  as  charms  bits  of  the  flesh  of  a  dead  com- 
panion. This  notion  is  implied  in  the  fact  that  "an  Ashantce  sovereign  car- 
ried the  head  of  his  predecessor  with  him  to  battle  as  a  charm."  Races  who 
are  in  danger  from  ferocious  animals,  often  use  as  amulets  the  preservable 
parts  of  such  animals.  Of  the  Damaras,  Andersson  says  that  their  amulets  are 
generally  the  teeth  of  lions  and  hyaenas,  entrails  of  animals,  etc. ;  and  that 
the  Namaqua-amulets  consist  "  as  usual  of  the  teeth  and  claws  of  lions,  hyaenas, 
and  other  wild  beasts;  pieces  of  wood,  bone,  dried  flesh  and  fat,  roots  of 
plants,  etc."  Among  the  charms  belonging  to  a  Dyak  medicine-man  were — 
some  teeth  of  alligators  and  honey  bears,  several  boar's  tusks,  chips  of  deer 


INSPIRATION,  DIVINATION,  EXORCISM,  AND  SORCERY.  249 

savage,  we  find  further  reason  to  suspect  in  the  supposed 
potency  of  names.  The  primitive  notion  that  a  man's  name 
forms  a  part  of  him,  and  the  derivative  notion  that  calling 
the  dead  by  their  names  affects  them  and  may  offend  them, 
originate  the  necromancer's  notion  of  invocation.  Every- 
where, be  it  in  the  Hebrew  legend  of  Samuel,  whose  ghost 
asks  why  he  has  been  disquieted,  or  in  an  Icelandic  saga, 
which  describes  ghosts  severally  summoned  by  name  as  an- 
swering to  the  summons,  we  get  evidence  that  possession 
of  the  name  is  supposed  to  give  over  the  dead  an  influence 
like  that  which  it  is  supposed  to  give  over  the  living.  The 
power  acquired  by  knowledge  of  the  name  is  again  implied 
by  such  stories  as  the  "  open  Sesame  "  of  the  Arabian 
Nights;  and  the  alleged  effect  of  calling  the  name  we  see  in 
the  still-extant,  though  now  jocose,  saying — "  Talk  of  the 
devil  and  he  is  sure  to  appear." 

Special  interpretations  aside,  however,  the  general  inter- 
pretation is  sufficiently  manifest.  The  primitive  ghost- 
theory,  implying  but  little  difference  between  dead  and 
living,  fosters  the  notion  that  the  dead  can  be  acted  on  by 
arts  like  those  which  act  on  the  living;  and  hence  results 
that  species  of  magic  which,  in  its  earlier  form,  is  a  sum- 
moning of  the  dead  to  get  from  them  information,  as  the 
witch  of  Endor  summons  the  spirit  of  Samuel,  and  in  its 
later  form  is  a  raising  of  demons  to  help  in  mischief. 

§  134.  Exorcism  and  sorcery  pass  insensibly  into  mira- 
cle. What  difference  exists  refers  less  to  the  natures  of  the 
effects  worked  than  to  the  characters  of  the  agents  working 
them.  If  the  marvellous  results  are  ascribed  to  a  super- 
natural being  at  enmity  with  the  observers,  the  art  is  sor- 

horn,  tangles  of  coloured  thread,  claws  of  some  animals,  and  odds  and  ends  of 
European  articles.  Elsewhere  the  motive  is  specified.  Enumerating  the  amu- 
lets of  the  Brazilian  Indian,  Spii  and  Martius  name  the  "  eye-teeth  of  ounces 
and  monkeys;"  and  they  say  the  Indian  thinks  his  amulets,  among  other 
benefits,  "  will  protect  him  against  the  attacks  of  wild  beasts." 


250  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

eery;  but  if  ascribed  to  a  friendly  supernatural  being,  the 
marvellous  results  are  classed  as  miracles. 

This  is  well  shown  in  the  contest  between  the  Hebrew 
priests  and  the  magicians  of  Egypt.  From  Pharaoh's  point 
of  view,  Aaron  was  an  enchanter  working  by  the  help  of  a 
spirit  antagonistic  to  himself;  while  his  own  priests  worked 
by  the  help  of  his  favouring  gods.  Contrariwise,  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  Israelites,  the  achievements  of  their 
own  leaders  were  divine,  and  those  of  their  antagonists  dia- 
bolical. But  both  believed  that  supernatural  agency  was 
employed,  and  that  the  more  powerful  supernatural  agent 
had  to  be  yielded  to. 

Alleged  ancient  miracles  of  another  order  are  paralleled 
in  their  meanings  by  alleged  miracles  now  wrought  every 
day  in  South  Africa.  By  the  Bechuanas,  missionaries  are 
taken  for  another  sort  of  rain-makers;  and  among  the  Yoru- 
bas,  "  an  old  farmer,  seeing  a  cloud,  will  say  to  a  missionary, 
'  please  let  it  rain  for  us.' '  Rain  being  thus,  in  these  arid 
regions,  as  in  the  East,  synonymous  with  blessing,  we  find 
contests  between  rain-doctors,  or  "  heaven-herds,"  like  that 
between  Elijah  and  the  priests  of  Baal.  There  are  similar 
trials  of  strength,  and  kindred  penalties  for  failure.  In 
Zululand,  at  a  time  when  "  the  heaven  was  hot  and  dry," 
a  rain-doctor,  "  Umkqaekana,  says — '  let  the  people  look  at 
the  heaven  at  such  a  time;  it  will  rain.'  .  .  .  And  when  it 
rained,  the  people  said — '  truly,  he  is  a  doctor.'  .  .  .  After 
that  year  the  heaven  was  hard,  and  it  did  not  rain.  The 
people  persecuted  him  exceedingly.  ...  It  is  said  they 
poisoned  him."  Habitually  we  find  this  same  conception 
of  the  weather-doctor,  as,  in  the  words  of  Bishop  Callaway, 
"  a  priest  to  whom  is  entrusted  the  power  of  prevailing 
mediation;  "  and  habitually  we  find  both  his  mediatory 
power  and  the  power  of  the  supernatural  agent  with  whom 
he  has  influence,  tested  by  the  result.  Thus,  in  the  account 
of  his  captivity  in  Brazil,  the  old  voyager,  Hans  Stade,  say- 
ing, "  God  did  a  wonder  through  me,"  narrates  how,  at  the 


INSPIRATION,  DIVINATION,  EXORCISM,  AND  SORCERY.  251 

request  of  two  savages,  lie  stopped  by  prayer  a  coming  storm, 
which  threatened  to  hinder  their  fishing;  and  that  "  the 
savage,  Parwaa,  said — '  Now  I  see  that  thou  hast  spoken 
with  thy  God:  '  '  heathen  and  Christian  being  thus  per- 
fectly at  one  in  their  interpretation. 

The  only  difference  of  moment  is  the  extent  to  which 
the  supernatural  agent  who  produces  the  miraculous  effect 
at  the  instigation  of  the  medicine-man,  rain-maker,  prophet, 
or  priest,  has  diverged  in  ascribed  nature  from  the  primitive 
ancestral  ghost. 

§  135.  And  now  we  approach  another  order  of  phe- 
nomena which  has  been  evolving  simultaneously  with  the- 
orders  described  in  this  chapter  and  the  one  preceding  it. 

The  primitive  belief  is  that  the  ghosts  of  the  dead,  enter- 
ing the  bodies  of  the  living,  produce  convulsive  actions,  in- 
sanity, disease,  and  death ;  and  as  this  belief  develops,  these 
original  supernatural  agents  conceived  as  causing  such  evils, 
differentiate  into  supernatural  agents  of  various  kinds  and 
powers.  Above,  we  have  contemplated  certain  sequences  of 
this  theory  of  possession.  Along  with  a  belief  in  maleficent 
possession  there  goes  a  belief  in  beneficent  possession ;  which 
is  prayed  for  under  the  forms  of  supernatural  strength,  in- 
spiration, or  knowledge.  Further,  from  the  notion  that  if 
maleficent  demons  can  enter  they  can  be  driven  out,  there 
results  exorcism.  And  then  there  comes  the  idea  that  they 
may  be  otherwise  controlled — may  be  called  to  aid :  whence 
enchantments  and  miracles. 

But  if  ghosts  of  the  dead,  or  derived  supernatural  agents 
otherwise  classed,  can  thus  inflict  evils  on  men  when  at 
enmity  with  them,  or,  when  amicable,  can  give  them  help 
and  protection,  will  it  not  be  wise  so  to  behave  as  to  gain 
their  good-will?  This  is  evidently  one  of  several  policies 
that  may  be  adopted.  Supposed  as  these  souls  or  spirits 
originally  are,  to  be  like  living  men  in  their  perceptions  and 
intelligence,  they  may  be  evaded  and  deceived.  Or,  as  in 


252  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

the  procedures  above  described,  they  may  be  driven  away 
and  defied.  Or,  contrariwise,  there  may  be  pursued  the 
course  of  pacifying  them  if  angry,  and  pleasing  them  if 
friendly. 

This  last  course,  which  originates  religious  observances 
in  general,  we  have  now  to  consider.  We  shall  find  that 
the  group  of  ideas  and  practices  constituting  a  cult,  has  the 
same  root  with  the  groups  of  ideas  and  practices  already 
described,  and  gradually  diverges  from  them. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;   SACRIFICE,  FASTING, 
AND  PROPITIATION;    PRAISE,  PRAYER,  ETC. 

§  136.  THE  inscriptions  on  grave-stones  commonly 
begin  with  the  words — "  Sacred  to  the  memory  of."  The 
sacredness  thus  ascribed  to  the  tomb,  extends  to  whatever  is, 
or  has  been,  closely  associated  with  the  dead.  The  bedroom 
containing  the  corpse  is  entered  with  noiseless  steps;  words 
are  uttered  in  low  tones;  and  by  the  subdued  manner  is 
shown  a  feeling  which,  however  variable  in  other  elements, 
always  includes  the  element  of  awe. 

The  sentiment  excited  in  us  by  the  dead,  by  the  place 
of  the  dead,  and  by  the  immediate  belongings  of  the  dead, 
while  doubtless  partly  unlike  that  of  the  primitive  man,  is  in 
essence  like  it.  When  we  read  of  savages  in  general,  as  of 
the  Dakotahs,  that  "  they  stand  in  great  awe  of  the  spirits 
of  the  dead,"  and  that  many  tribes,  like  the  Hottentots 
"  leave  the  huts  they  died  in  standing,"  with  their  contents 
untouched;  we  are  shown  that  fear  is  a  chief  component 
of  the  sentiment.  Shrinking  from  the  chamber  of  death, 
often  shown  among  ourselves,  like  aversion  to  going  through 
a  churchyard  at  night,  arises  partly  from  a  vague  dread. 
Common  to  uncivilized  and  civilized,  this  feeling  colours 
all  the  ideas  which  the  dead  arouse. 

Parallelisms  apart,  we  have  abundant  proof  that  the 
place  where  the  dead  are,  awakens  in  savages  an  emotion  of 

fear;  is  approached  with  hesitating  steps;  and  acquires  the 

253 


254:  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

character  of  sanctity.  In  the  Tonga  Islands,  the  cemeteries 
containing  the  greatest  chiefs  are  considered  sacred.  When 
a  New  Zealand  chief  is  buried  in  a  village,  the  whole  village 
become  tapu:  no  one,  on  pain  of  death,  being  permitted  to 
go  near  it.  The  Tahitians  never  repair  or  live  in  the  house 
of  one  who  has  died :  that,  and  everything  belonging  to  him, 
is  tabooed.  Food  for  the  departed  is  left  by  New  Zealanders 
in  "  sacred  calabashes;  "  in  Aneiteum,  the  groves  in  which 
they  leave  offerings  of  food  for  their  dead  ancestors,  are 
"  sacred  groves;  "  and  by  Ashantis,  the  town  of  Bantama 
"  is  regarded  as  sacred  because  it  contains  the  fetish-house, 
which  is  the  mausoleum  of  the  kings  of  Ashanti." 

The  fact  which  here  concerns  us  is,  that  this  awe  excited 
by  the  dead  grows  into  a  sentiment  like  that  excited  by  the 
places  and  things  used  for  religious  purposes.  The  kinship 
is  forced  on  our  attention  when  Cook  tells  us  of  the  Sand- 
wich Islanders,  that  the  morai  seems  to  be  their  pantheon  as 
well  as  their  burial-place ;  and  that  the  morais  or  burying- 
grounds  of  the  Tahitians  are  also  places  of  worship.  But  we 
shall  see  this  relationship  most  clearly  on  tracing  the  genesis 
of  temples  and  altars. 

§  137.  By  the  cave-inhabiting  Veddahs,  until  recently, 
the  dead  man  was  left  where  he  died:  the  survivors  sought 
some  other  cave,  leaving  that  in  which  the  death  occurred  to 
the  spirit  of  the  deceased.  As  already  shown  in  connexion 
with  another  belief,  the  Bongo  people  could  not  be  got  to 
enter  a  certain  cave  which  they  said  was  haunted  by  the 
spirits  of  fugitives  who  had  died  in  it.  Further  south  "  no 
one  dared  to  enter  the  Lohaheng,  or  cave,  for  it  was  the 
common  belief  that  it  was  the  habitation  of  the  Deity." 
And  in  the  Izdubar  legends,  Heabani,  represented  as  living 
in  a  cave,  is  said,  at  death,  to  be  taken  by  his  "  mother  earth," 
and  his  ghost  is  raised  out  of  the  earth.  On  being  thus  re- 
minded that  primitive  men  lived  in  caves  and  interred  their 
dead  in  them;  on  adding  that  when  they  ceased  to  use  caves 


SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    255 

as  dwellings  they  continued  to  use  them  as  cemeteries ;  and 
on  remembering,  further,  the  general  custom  of  carrying 
offerings  to  the  places  where  the  departed  lie;  we  see  how 
there  arises  the  sacred  cave  or  cave-temple.  That 

the  cave-temples  of  Egypt  thus  originated  is  tolerably  clear. 
In  various  parts  of  the  world  natural  caverns  are  found  with 
rude  frescoes  daubed  on  their  sides;  and  these  artificial 
caverns  in  which  some  Egyptian  kings  were  buried,  had 
their  long  passages  and  sepulchral  chambers  covered  with 
paintings.  If  we  assume  that  to  the  preserved  bodies  of 
these  kings,  as  to  those  of  Egyptians  generally,  offerings 
were  made;  we  must  infer  that  the  sacred  burial-cave  had 
become  a  cave-temple.  And  on  learning  that  elsewhere  in 
Egypt  there  are  cave-temples  of  a  more  developed  kind  that 
were  not  sepulchral,  we  may  properly  regard  these  as  de- 
rivative; for  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  men  begun  cut- 
ting their  places  of  worship  out  of  the  solid  rock,  without 
having  a  preceding  habit  to  prompt  them. 

For  another  class  of  temples  we  have  another  origin 
caused  by  another  mode  of  burial.  The  Araw&ks  place  the 
corpse  in  a  "  small  corial  (boat)  and  bury  it  in  the  hut."  By 
the  Guiana  tribes,  "  a  hole  is  dug  in  the  hut  and  there  the 
body  is  laid."  Among  the  Creeks,  the  habitation  of  the 
dead  becomes  his  place  of  interment.  Similarly  in  Africa. 
By  the  Fantees  "  the  dead  person  is  buried  in  his  own 
house;  "  the  Dahomans  bury  in  the  deceased's  "  own  house 
or  in  the  abode  of  certain  ancestors;  "  and  there  is  house- 
burial  among  the  Fulahs,  the  Bagos,  and  the  Gold  Coast 
people.  Whether  the  house  thus  used  tends  to  become  a 
temple,  depends  on  whether  it  is,  or  is  not,  abandoned.  In 
cases  like  those  cited  in  §  117,  where  the  survivors  continue 
to  inhabit  it  after  one  or  more  interments,  the  acquirement 
of  the  sacred  character  is  prevented.  When  Landa  tells  us 
of  the  Yucatrnese,  that,  "  as  a  rule,  they  abandoned  the 
house  and  left  it  uninhabited  after  the  burial,  unless  there 
were  many  people  living  in  it  who  overcame  the  fear  of 


256  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

death  by  company;  "  we  are  shown  the  rise  of  the  sentiment 
and  what  results  from  it  if  not  checked.  Hence,  when  told 
of  the  Caribs  that,  "  burying  the  corpse  in  the  centre  of  his 
own  dwelling  "  [if  the  master  of  the  house]  the  relations 
"  quitted  the  house  altogether,  and  erected  another  in  a 
distant  situation ;  "  and  when  told  of  the  Brazilian  Indians 
that  a  dead  man  "  is  buried  in  the  hut  which,  if  he  was  an 
adult,  is  abandoned,  and  another  built  in  its  stead;  "  and 
when  told  that  "  the  ancient  Peruvians  frequently  buried 
their  dead  in  their  dwellings  and  then  removed;  "  we  can- 
not but  see  that  the  abandoned  house,  thus  left  to  the  ghost 
of  the  deceased,  becomes  a  place  regarded  with  awe.  More- 
over, as  repeated  supplies  of  food  are  taken  to  it;  and  as 
along  with  making  offerings  there  go  other  propitiatory 
acts;  the  deserted  dwelling-house,  turned  into  a  mortuary- 
house,  acquires  the  attributes  of  a  temple. 

Where  house-burial  is  not  practised,  the  sheltering  struc- 
ture raised  above  the  grave,  or  above  the  stage  bearing  the 
corpse,  becomes  the  germ  of  the  sacred  building.  By  some 
of  the  New  Guinea  people  there  is  a  "  roof  of  atap  erected 
over  "  the  burial-place.  In  Cook's  time,  the  Tahitians  placed 
the  body  of  a  dead  person  upon  a  kind  of  bier  supported 
by  sticks  and  under  a  roof.  So,  too,  in  Sumatra,  where  "  a 
shed  is  built  over  "  the  grave;  and  so,  too,  in  Tonga.  Of 
course  this  shed  admits  of  enlargement  and  finish.  The 
Dyaks  in  some  places  build  mausoleums  like  houses,  18  ft. 
high,  ornamentally  carved,  containing  the  goods  of  the  de- 
parted— sword,  shield,  paddle,  etc.  When  we  read  that  the 
Fijians  deposit  the  bodies  of  their  chiefs  in  small  mbures  or 
temples,  we  may  fairly  conclude  that  these  so-called  temples 
are  simply  more-developed  sheltering  structures.  Describ- 
ing the  funeral  rites  of  a  Tahitian  chief,  placed  under  a  pro- 
tective shed,  Ellis  says  the  corpse  was  clothed  "  and  placed 
in  a  sitting  posture ;  a  small  altar  was  erected  before  it,  and 
offerings  of  fruit,  food,  and  flowers,  daily  presented  by  the 
relatives,  or  the  priest  appointed  to  attend  the  body."  Here 


SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    257 

the  shed  has  become  a  place  of  worship.  Still  more  clearly 
did  the  customs  of  the  Peruvians  show  that  the  structure 
erected  over  the  dead  body  develops  into  a  temple.  Acosta 
tells  us  that  "  every  one  of  these  kings  Yncas  left  all  his 
treasure  and  revenues  to  entertaine  the  place  of  worshippe 
where  his  body  was  layed,  and  there  were  many  ministers 
with  all  his-familie  dedicated  to  his  service." 

Xor  is  it  among  inferior  races  alone  that  we  trace  this 
genesis  of  the  temple  out  of  the  specially-provided  house 
for  the  dead.  That  which  early  Spanish  travellers  tell  us 
about  the  Peruvians,  ancient  Greek  travellers  tell  us  about 
the  Egyptians.  Just  as  Cieza  remarks  "  how  little  [the 
Collas].  cared  for  having  large  and  handsome  houses  for  the 
living,  while  they  bestowed  so  much  care  on  the  tombs 
where  the  dead  were  interred;  "  so  Diodorus,  giving  a  rea- 
son for  the  meanness  of  the  Egyptians'  dwellings  as  con- 
trasted with  the  splendour  of  their  tombs,  says — "  they 
termed  the  houses  of  the  living  inns,  because  they  stay  in 
them  but  a  little  while,  but  the  sepulchres  of  the  dead  they 
call  everlasting  habitations."  As  these  Egyptian  tombs, 
like  their  houses  in  type  though  so  superior  in  quality,  were 
places  in  which  offerings  to  the  dead  were  made,  they  were 
essentially  temples.  Indeed,  as  it  is  doubtful  whether  that 
most  ancient  underground  structure  close  to  the  great  pyra- 
mid, is  a  tomb  or  a  temple — as  the  Serapeum  (also  under- 
ground) where  the  god  Osiris- Apis  was  buried  after  each 
incarnation,  "  resembled  in  appearance  the  other  Egyptian 
temples,  even  those  which  were  not  of  a  funereal  charac- 
ter; "  we  have  reason  for  thinking  that  in  earlier  Egyptian 
times  the  temple,  as  distinguished  from  the  tomb,  did  not 
exist.  Xot  unf  requently  in  the  East,  these  mortuary  struc- 
tures united  the  characters  of  the  cave-temple  and  the  dwell- 
ing-house temple.  As  at  Petra,  as  at  Cyrene,  so  in  Etruria, 
the  tombs  were  arranged  along  a  cliff  "  like  houses  in  a 
street,"  and  "  were  severally  an  imitation  of  a  dwelling- 
chamber:  "  to  which  add  that  the  Etruscans  had  also  under- 


258  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ground  temples  like  underground  burial  places,  which  were 
like  primitive  underground  houses.  A  temple  at  Mahavelli- 
pore  in  Dravidian  style,  suggests  that  in  India  the  rock- 
temple  was  originally  a  tomb :  there  is  a  reclining  ( ?  dead) 
figure  being  worshipped.  The  tomb  of  Darius,  too,  cut  in 
the  rock,  "  is  an  exact  reproduction  "  of  his  palace  on  the 
same  scale.  I  may  end  with  the  remark  of  Mr.  Fergusson, 
who,  writing  of  the  Chaldean  temples,  and  indicating  the 
likeness  of  the  tomb  of  Cyrus  to  a  temple,  says  "  the  most 
celebrated  example  of  this  form  is  as  often  called  [by  ancient 
writers]  the  tomb  as  the  temple  of  Belus,  and  among  a  Tu- 
ranian people  the  tomb  and  the  temple  may  be  considered 
as  one  and  the  same  thing." 

Later  times  have  seen  manifest  tendencies  to  such  a 
genesis  of  the  temple,  de  novo.  In  the  oases  of  the  Sahara, 
are  chapels  built  over  the  remains  of  marabouts,  or  Ma- 
hometan saints;  and  to  these  chapels  the  pious  make  pil- 
grimages and  take  offerings.  Obviously,  too,  a  chapel  cov- 
ering the  tomb  of  a  saint  within  a  Roman  Catholic  cathe- 
dral, is  a  small  temple  within  a  large  one.  And  every  de- 
tached mausoleum  containing  the  bones  of  a  distinguished 
man,  is  visited  with  feelings  akin  to  the  religious,  and  is  an 
incipient  place  of  worship. 

§  138.  When,  from  tracing  the  origin  of  the  sacred 
chamber,  be  it  cave,  or  deserted  house,  or  special  mortuary- 
house,  or  temple,  we  proceed  to  trace  the  origin  of  the  sacred 
structure  within  it — the  altar — we  come  first  to  something 
intermediate.  In  India  there  are  highly-developed  sacred 
structures  uniting  the  attributes  of  the  two. 

The  grave-heap  growing  into  the  tumulus,  which  in- 
creases in  size  with  the  dignity  of  the  deceased,  sometimes 
develops  from  a  mound  of  earth  into  a  mound  partly  of 
stones  and  partly  of  earth,  or  otherwise  wholly  of  stones,  and 
finally  into  a  stone  structure,  still  solid  like  a  mound,  and 
still  somewhat  mound-shaped,  but  highly  elaborated  archi- 


SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    259 

tecturally.  Instead  of  a  sacred  edifice  evolved  from  the 
sepulchral  chamber,  we  have,  in  the  Indian  Tope,  a  sacred 
edifice  evolved  from  the  grave-heap  itself.  "  The  Tope  is 
the  lineal  and  direct  descendant  of  the  funereal  tumulus," 
says  Mr.  Fergusson ;  or,  as  defined  by  Gen.  Cunningham  in 
his  elaborate  work,  it  is  "  a  regularly-built  cairn,"  as  its 
name  iuiplies.  Of  these  Indian  Topes,  some  contain  relics 
of  Sakya-muni;  and  others  contain  relics  of  his  principal 
disciples,  priests,  and  saints :  relics  only,  because  in  the  case 
of  Sakya"-muni,  parts  of  his  remains  were  carried  to  different 
places,  and  because,  in  the  other  cases,  burning  of  the  dead 
having  been  adopted  by  the  Indian  Buddhists,  the  tomb 
became  not  the  receptacle  of  a  body  but  of  a  remnant.  As 
nearly  as  this  change  of  practice  permits,  therefore,  the  Tope 
is  a  tomb ;  and  the  prayers  offered  at  Topes,  the  processions 
made  round  them,  and  the  adorations  paid  to  them  (as  shown 
in  the  sculptures  on  their  own  surfaces),  prove  that  they 
are  simply  solid  temples  instead  of  hollow  temples.  Further 
evidence  of  this  remains :  the  name  given  to  certain  of  them, 
Chaitya,  means,  in  Sanskrit,  "  an  altar,  a  temple,  as  well  as 
any  monument  raised  on  the  site  of  a  funeral  pile." 

Returning  to  the  grave-heap  in  its  original  form,  we 
have  first  to  recall  the  fact  (§  85)  that  among  savages  who 
bury,  and  who  take  supplies  of  food  to  the  dead,  the  grave- 
heap  is  thereby  made  a  heap  on  which  offerings  are  placed. 
Here  of  earth  or  turf,  there  partly  of  stones,  elsewhere  of 
stones  entirely,  it  has  the  same  relation  to  offerings  for  the 
dead  that  an  altar  has  to  offerings  for  a  deity. 

Where  corpses  are  supported  on  platforms,  which  also 
bear  the  refreshments  provided,  these  platforms  become 
practically  altars ;  and  we  have  evidence  that  in  some  cases 
the  altars  used  in  the  worship  of  deities  are  derived  from 
them.  In  Tahiti,  when  Cook  was  there,  the  altars  on  which 
the  natives  placed  their  offerings  to  the  gods  were  similar  to 
the  biers  on  which  they  placed  their  dead :  both  were  small 
stages,  raised  on  wooden  pillars,  from  five  to  seven  feet  high. 


200  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY, 

•*r 

A  like  structure  was  used  in  the  Sandwich  Islands  to  sup- 
port the  provisions  taken  to  the  grave  of  one  of  Cook's 
sailors.  Elsewhere,  neither  the  grave-heap  simply  nor  the 
raised  stage,  plays  the  part  of  a  stand  for  offerings.  Ximenez 
tells  us  of  the  Central  Americans  that  "  if,  after  the  slaves 
had  been  laid  in  the  sepulchre  beside  their  master,  any  space 
was  left,  they  filled  it  up  with  earth,  and  levelled  it.  They 
afterwards  erected  an  altar  upon  the  grave,  a  cubit  high,  of 
lime  and  rock,  on  which  generally  much  incense  was  burnt, 
and  sacrifices  offered."  And  then,  among  peoples  who  en- 
large the  grave-heap,  this  structure  carrying  food  and  drink 
is  placed  close  to  it;  as  even  now  before  the  vast  tumulus  of 
a  Chinese  Emperor. 

Among  ancient  orientals  the  altar  had  a  like  origin.  A 
ceremony  at  one  of  the  Egyptian  festivals  was  crowning  the 
tomb  of  Osiris  with  flowers ;  and  in  like  manner  they  placed 
garlands  on  the  sarcophagi  of  dead  persons.  On  altars  "  out- 
side the  doors  of  the  catacombs  at  Thebes  "  "  are  carved  in 
bas-relief  the  various  offerings  they  bore,  which  are  the  same 
as  those  represented  in  the  paintings  of  tombs:  "  an  illustra- 
tion showing  us  that  where  it  became  a  support  for  offerings 
placed  in  front  of  the  dead,  the  altar  still  bore  traces  of 
having  originally  been  the  receptacle  for  the  dead.  One 
more  case.  Though,  along  with  their  advance  from  the 
earliest  pastoral  state,  the  Hebrews  probably  diverged  some- 
what from  their  original  observances  of  burial  and  sacrifice, 
their  primitive  altars  as  described,  suggest  the  origin  here 
alleged.  They  were  either  of  turf,  and  in  so  far  like  a  grave- 
heap,  or  they  were  of  undressed  stones,  and  in  so  far  also 
like  a  grave-heap.  Bearing  in  mind  that,  as  illustrated  in  the 
use  of  the  flint-knife  for  circumcision,  religious  usages  are 
those  which  remain  longest  unchanged,  we  may  suspect 
the  cause  of  the  restriction  to  undressed  stones  for  building 
an  altar,  was  that  the  use  of  them  had  persisted  from  the 
time  when  they  formed  t^ie  primitive  cairn.  It  is  true  that 
the  earliest  Hebrew  legends  imply  cave-burials,  and  that 


SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    261 

later  burials  were  in  artificial  caves  or  sepulchres;  but  pas- 
toral tribes,  wandering  over  wide  plains,  could  not  con- 
stantly have  buried  thus.  The  common  mode  was  probably 
that  still  practised  by  such  wild  Semites  as  the  Bedouins, 
whose  dead  have  "  stones  piled  over  the  grave,"  and  who 
"  make  sacrifices  in  which  sheep  or  camels  are  devoutly 
slaughtered  at  the  tombs  of  their  dead  kinsmen :  "  the  piled 
stones  being  thus  clearly  made  into  an  altar. 

The  usages  of  European  races  also  yield  evidence  of  this 
derivation.  Here,  partly  from  Blunt's  Dictionary  of  The- 
ology, and  partly  from  other  sources,  are  some  of  the  proofs. 
The  most  ancient  altar  known  is  "  a  hollow  chest,  on  the  lid 
or  mensa  of  which  the  Eucharist  was  celebrated."  This 
form  was  associated  with  "  the  early  Christian  custom  of 
placing  the  relics  of  martyred  saints  "  under  altars ;  and  it 
is  still  a  standing  rule  in  the  Catholic  Church  to  enclose  the 
relics  of  a  saint  in  an  altar.  "  Stone  was  ordered  by  councils 
of  the  fourth  century,  from  an  association  of  the  altar  with 
the  sepulchre  of  Christ."  Moreover,  "  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians chiefly  held  their  meetings  at  the  tombs  of  the  martyrs, 
and  celebrated  the  mysteries  of  religion  upon  them."  And 
to  Mr.  Fergusson's  statement,  that  in  the  middle  ages  "  the 
stone  coffin  became  an  altar,"  may  be  joined  the  fact  that 
our  churches  still  contain  "  altar-tombs." 

Thus  what  we  are  clearly  shown  by  the  practices  of  the 
uncivilized,  is  indicated  also  by  the  practices  of  the  civilized. 
The  original  altar  is  that  which  supports  offerings  to  the 
dead;  and  hence  its  various  forms — a  heap  of  turf,  a  pile 
of  stones,  a  raised  stage,  a  stone  coffin. 

§  139.  Altars  imply  sacrifices;  and  we  pass  naturally 
from  the  genesis  of  the  one  to  the  genesis  of  the  other. 

Already  in  §  84  I  have  exemplified  at  length  the  custom 

of  providing  the  deceased  with  food;  and  I  might,  space 

permitting,  double  the  number  of  examples.    I  might,  too, 

dwell  on  the  various  motives  avowed  by  various  peoples — 

18 


262  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

by  the  Lower  Calif  ornians,  among  whom  "  the  priest  de- 
mands provisions  for  the  spirit's  journey;  "  by  the  Coras  of 
Mexico,  who,  after  a  man's  death,  "  placed  some  meat  upon 
sticks  about  the  fields,  for  fear  he  might  come  for  the  cattle 
he  formerly  owned ;  "  by  the  Damaras,  who,  bringing  food 
to  the  grave  of  a  relation,  request  "  him  to  eat  and  make 
merry,"  and  in  return  "  invoke  his  blessing  "  and  aid.  A 
truth  also  before  illustrated  (§  85),  but  which,  as  bearing 
directly  on  the  argument,  it  will  be  well  to  re-illustrate 
here,  is  that  these  offerings  are  repeated  at  intervals:  in 
some  places  for  a  short  time ;  in  other  places  for  a  long  time. 
Of  the  Vancouver-Island  people  we  are  told  that  "  for  some 
days  after  the  death  relatives  burn  salmon  or  venison  before 
the  tomb ;  "  and  among  the  Mosquito  Indians,  "  the  widow 
was  bound  to  supply  the  grave  of  her  husband  with  pro- 
visions for  a  year."  When,  with  practices  of  this  kind,  we 
join  such  practices  as  those  of  the  Karen,  who  thinks  him- 
self surrounded  by  the  spirits  of  the  departed  dead,  "  whom 
he  has  to  appease  by  varied  and  unceasing  offerings;  "  we 
cannot  fail  to  recognize  the  transition  from  funeral  gifts  to 
religious  sacrifices. 

The  kinship  becomes  further  manifest  on  observing  that 
in  both  cases  there  are,  besides  offerings  of  the  ordinary 
kind,  festival  offerings.  The  Karens  just  named  as  habit- 
ually making  oblations,  have  also  annual  feasts  for  the  dead, 
at  which  they  ask  the  spirits  to  eat  and  drink.  Of  the  Bodo 
and  Dhimals  Hodgson  tells  us  that  "  at  harvest  home,  they 
offer  fruits  and  a  fowl  to  deceased  parents."  Such  yearly 
sacrifices,  occurring  in  November  among  the  natives  of  the 
Mexican  Valley,  who  then  lay  live  animals,  edibles,  and 
flowers  on  the  graves  of  their  dead  relatives  and  friends, 
and  occurring  in  August  among  the  Pueblos,  who  then  place 
corn,  bread,  meat,  etc.,  in  the  "  haunts  frequented  by  the 
dead,"  have  prevailed  widely:  the  modern  Chinese  still  ex- 
emplifying them,  as  they  were  exemplified  by  the  ancient 
Peruvians  and  Aztecs. 


SACRED   PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    263 

Moreover  there  are  offerings  on  occasions  specially  sug- 
gesting them.  "  When  passing  a  burial-ground  they  [the 
Sea  Dyaks]  throw  on  it  something  they  consider  acceptable 
to  the  departed;  "  and  a  Hottentot  makes  a  gift  on  passing 
a  burial-place,  and  ask  for  ghostly  guardianship.  In  Samoa, 
where  the  spirits  of  the  dead  are  supposed  to  roam  the  bush, 
"  people  in  going  far  inland  to  work,  would  scatter  food  here 
and  there  as  a  peace-offering  to  them,  and  utter  a  word  or 
two  of  prayer  for  protection."  Development  of  funeral 
offerings  into  habitual  sacrifices  is  carried  a  stage  further  in 
the  practice  of  reserving  for  the  dead  a  part  of  each  meal. 
In  Fiji  "  often  when  the  natives  eat  or  drink  anything,  they 
throw  portions  of  it  away,  stating  them  to  be  for  their  de- 
parted ancestors."  Always  when  liquor  is  given  the  Bhils, 
they  pour  a  libation  on  the  ground  before  drinking  any; 
and  as  their  forefathers  are  their  gods,  the  meaning  of  this 
practice  is  unmistakable.  So,  too,  the  Araucanians  spill  a 
little  of  their  drink,  and  scatter  a  little  of  their  food,  before 
eating  and  drinking;  and  the  Yirzimbers  of  Madagascar, 
when  they  sit  down  to  meals,  "  take  a  bit  of  meat  and  throw 
it  over  their  heads,  saying — (  There's  a  bit  for  the  spirit.' ' 
Ancient  historic  races  had  like  ways. 

The  motives  for  these  offerings  are  often  avowed.  We 
read  in  Livingstone  that  a  Berotse  having  a  headache  said — 
"  '  My  father  is  scolding  me  because  I  do  not  give  him  any 
of  the  food  I  eat.'  I  asked  him  where  his  father  was. 
'  Among  the  Barimo,'  [gods]  was  the  reply."  The  Kaffirs 
are  described  as  attributing  every  untoward  event  to  the 
spirit  of  a  deceased  person,  and  as  "  slaughtering  a  beast  to 
propitiate  its  favour."  The  Amazulu  show  us  the  same 
thing.  "  There,  then,  is  your  food,"  they  say:  "  all  ye 
spirits  of  our  tribe,  summon  one  another.  I  am  not  going 
to  say,  l  So-and-so,  there  is  your  food,'  for  you  are  jealous. 
But  thou,  So-and-so,  who  art  making  this  man  ill,  call  all  the 
spirits;  come  all  of  you  to  eat  this  food." 

So  that  alike  in  motive  and  in  method,  this  offering  of 


264  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

food  and  drink  to  the  dead  man  parallels  the  offering  of 
food  and  drink  to  a  deity.  Observe  the  points  of  com- 
munity. The  giving  of  portions  of  meals  is  com- 
mon to  the  two.  In  the  Sandwich  Islands,  before  the  priests 
begin  a  meal,  says  Cook,  they  utter  a  sort  of  prayer,  and 
then  offer  some  of  the  provisions  to  the  deity.  As  with  these 
Polynesians,  so  with  the  Homeric  Greeks:  "  the  share  which 
is  given  to  the  gods  of  the  wine  that  flows,  and  the  flesh  that 
smokes  on  the  festal  board,"  corresponds  with  the  share  cast 
aside  by  various  peoples  for  the  ancestral  spirits.  The 
like  is  true  of  the  larger  oblations  on  special  occasions. 
When  told  that  a  Kaffir  chief  kills  a  bullock,  that  he  may 
thereby  get  help  in  war  from  a  dead  ancestor,  we  are  re- 
minded that  "  Agamemnon,  king  of  men,  slew  a  fat  bull  of 
five  years  to  most  mighty  Kronion."  When  among  the 
Amazulu,  after  "  an  abundant  harvest  sometimes  the  head 
of  the  village  dreams  that  it  is  said  to  him — '  How  is  it,  when 
you  have  been  given  so  much  food,  that  you  do  not  give 
thanks? '  '  and  when  he  thereupon  makes  a  feast  to  the 
Amatongo  (ghosts  of  the  dead),  his  act  differs  in  no  way 
from  that  of  presenting  first-fruits  to  deities.  And  when  at 
another  time  "  he  tells  his  dream,  and  says — '  Let  a  sin-offer- 
ing be  sacrificed,  lest  the  Itongo  be  angry  and  kill  us;  ' 
we  are  reminded  of  sin-offerings  made  among  various  peo- 
ples to  avert  divine  vengeance.  There  is  a  no  less 
complete  correspondence  between  the  sacrifices  made  at 
fixed  periods.  As  above  shown,  we  find  in  addition  to  other 
feasts  to  the  dead,  annual  feasts;  and  these  answer  to  the 
annual  festivals  in  honour  of  deities.  Moreover,  the  times 
are  alike  fixed  by  astronomical  events.  The  par- 
allel holds  also  in  respect  of  the  things  offered.  In  both  cases 
we  have  oxen,  goats,  etc.;  in  both  cases  bread  and  cakes 
occur;  in  both  cases  the  local  drink  is  given — wine  where 
it  exists,  chicha  by  American  races,  beer  by  various  tribes 
in  Africa ;  in  both  cases,  too,  we  find  incense  used ;  in  both 
cases  flowers;  and,  in  short,  whatever  consumable  com- 


SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    265 

inodities  are  most  valued,  down  even  to  tobacco.  As  we 
saw  above,  an  African  chief  expected  to  get  aid  by  empty- 
ing his  snuff-box  to  the  gods;  and  among  the  Kaffirs,  when 
the  spirits  "  are  invited  to  eat,  beer  and  snuff  are  usually 
added."  Nor  is  there  any  difference  in  the  mode  of  prep- 
aration. Both  to  spirits  and  to  deities  we  find  uncooked 
offerings  and  also  burnt  offerings.  Yet  another 

likeness  must  be  named.  Gods  are  supposed  to  profit  by  the 
sacrifices  as  ghosts  do,  and  to  be  similarly  pleased.  As  given 
in  the  Iliad,  Zeus'  reason  for  favouring  Troy  is  that  there 
"  never  did  mine  altar  lack  the  seemly  feast,  even  drink- 
offering  and  burnt-offering,  the  worship  that  is  our  due." 
In  the  Odyssey,  Athene  is  described  as  coming  in  person 
to  receive  the  roasted  heifer  presented  to  her,  and  as  reward- 
ing the  giver.  Lastly,  we  have  the  fact  that  in 
sundry  cases  the  sacrifices  to  ghosts  and  gods  coexist  in  un- 
distinguishable  forms.  By  the  Sandwich  Islanders  provi- 
sions are  placed  before  the  dead  and  before  images  of  the 
deities.  Among  the  "Egyptians  "  the  offerings  made  to  the 
dead  were  similar  to  the  ordinary  oblations  in  honour  of  the 
gods."  The  mummies  were  kept  in  closets,  "  out  of  which 
they  were  taken  ...  to  a  small  altar,  before  which  the 
priest  officiated;  "  and  on  this  altar  were  made  "  offerings 
of  incense  and  libations,  with  cakes,  flowers,  and  fruits." 

§  140.  Little  as  we  should  look  for  such  an  origin,  we 
meet  with  evidence  that  fasting,  as  a  religious  rite,  is  a  se- 
quence of  funeral  rites.  Probably  the  practice  arises  in 
more  ways  than  one.  Involuntary  as  abstinence  from  food 
often  is  with  the  primitive  man,  and  causing  as  it  then  does 
vivid  dreams,  it  becomes  a  deliberately-adopted  method  of 
obtaining  interviews  with  the  spirits.  Among  numerous 
savage  races  fasting  has  now,  as  it  had  among  the  Jews  of 
Talmudic  times,  this  as  one  of  its  motives.  In  other  cases  it 
has  the  allied  motive  of  bringing  on  that  preternatural  ex- 
citement regarded  as  inspiration.  But  besides  fastings  thus 


266  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

originating,  there  is  the  fasting  which  results  from  making 
excessive  provision  for  the  dead.  By  implication  this  grows 
into  an  accepted  mark  of  reverence;  and  finally  becomes  a 
religious  act. 

In  §  103,  it  was  shown  how  extensive  is  in  many  cases  the 
destruction  of  property,  of  cattle,  of  food,  at  the  tomb.  I 
have  quoted  the  statements  that,  as  a  consequence,  among 
the  Dyaks  burial-rites  frequently  reduce  survivors  to  pov- 
erty; and  that,  on  the  Gold  Coast,  "  a  funeral  is  usually 
absolute  ruin  to  a  poor  family."  If,  as  in  some  extinct 
American  societies,  everything  a  man  had  except  his  land 
went  into  the  grave  with  him — if  on  the  death  of  a  Toda 
"  his  entire  herd  "  of  oxen  was  sacrificed;  the  implication 
is  that  his  widow  and  children  had  to  suffer  great  want. 
Such  want  is,  indeed,  alleged.  We  read  that  "  the  Indians 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains  burn  with  the  deceased  all  his  ef- 
fects, and  even  those  of  his  nearest  relatives,  so  that  it  not 
unfrequently  happens  that  a  family  is  reduced  to  absolute 
starvation;  "  and  that  in  Africa,  among  the  Bagos,  u  the 
family  of  the  deceased,  who  are  ruined  by  this  act  of  super- 
stition [burning  his  property,  including  stores  of  food], 
are  supported  through  the  next  harvest  by  the  inhabitants 
of  the  village."  Now  when  along  with  these  facts,  obvi- 
ously related  as  cause  and  consequence,  we  join  the  fact  that 
the  Gold  Coast  people,  to  their  other  mourning  observances, 
add  fasting;  as  well  as  the  fact  that  among  the  Dahomans 
"  the  weeping  relatives  must  fast;  "  we  can  scarcely  avoid 
the  conclusion  that  what  is  at  first  a  natural  result  of  great 
sacrifice  to  the  dead,  becomes  eventually  a  usage  signifying 
such  sacrifice;  and  continues  as  a  usage  when  no  longer 
made  needful  by  impoverishment.  We  shall  see  the  more 
reason  for  concluding  this  on  finding  that  fasting  was  a  fun- 
eral rite  among  sundry  extinct  peoples  whose  attentions  to 
the  dead  were  elaborate.  The  Yucatanese  "  fasted  for  the 
sake  of  the  dead."  The  like  was  a  usage  with  the  Egyptians : 
during  the  mourning  for  a  king  "  a  solemn  fast  was  estab- 


SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC;    267 

lished."  Even  by  the  Hebrews  fasting  was  associated  with 
mourning  dresses;  and  after  the  burial  of  Saul  the  people 
of  Jabesh-Gilead  fasted  for  seven  days. 

This  connexion  of  practices  and  ideas  is  strengthened  by 
a  kindred  connexion,  arising  from  daily  offerings  to  the 
dead.  Throwing  aside  a  part  of  his  meal  to  the  ancestral 
ghosts,  by  diminishing  the  little  which  the  improvident 
savage  has,  often  entails  hunger;  and  voluntarily-borne 
hunger  thus  becomes  an  expression  of  duty  to  the  dead. 
How  it  passes  into  an  expression  of  duty  to  the  gods,  is  well 
shown  by  the  Polynesian  legend  concerning  Maui  and  his 
brothers.  Having  had  a  great  success  in  fishing,  Maui  says 
to  them — "  After  I  am  gone,  be  courageous  and  patient ;  do 
not  eat  food  until  I  return,  and  do  not  let  our  fish  be  cut  up, 
but  rather  leave  it  until  I  have  carried  an  offering  to  the 
gods  for  this  great  haul  of  fish.  ...  I  will  then  return,  and 
we  can  cut  up  this  fish  in  safety."  And  the  story  goes  on 
to  describe  the  catastrophe  resulting  from  the  anger  of  the 
gods,  because  the  brothers  proceeded  to  eat  before  the  offer- 
ing had  been  made. 

Of  course  the  fasting  thus  entailed,  giving  occasions  for 
self-discipline,  comes  to  be  used  for  self-discipline  after  the 
original  purpose  is  forgotten.  There  still  clings  to  it,  how- 
ever, the  notion  that  approval  of  a  supernatural  being  is 
gained;  and  the  clinging  of  this  notion  supports  the  infer- 
ence drawn. 

§  141.  From  this  incidental  result,  introduced  paren- 
thetically, let  us  return  to  our  study  of  the  way  in  which 
the  offerings  at  burials  develop  into  religious  offerings. 

We  have  seen  that  for  the  immolation  of  human  victims 
at  funerals,  there  are  two  motives:  one  of  them  being  the 
supply  of  food  for  the  dead ;  and  the  other  being  the  supply 
of  attendants  for  service  in  the  future  life.  We  will  glance 
at  the  two  in  this  order.  Remembering  that  a 

man's  ghost  is  supposed  to  retain  the  likings  of  the  living 


2G8  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

man,  we  shall  see  that  among  cannibals  the  offering  of 
human  flesh  to  the  dead  is  inevitable.  The  growth  of  the 
usage  is  well  shown  by  a  passage  in  Turner's  Samoa.  He 
says  that  Sama  was  "  the  name  of  the  cannibal  god  of  a 
village  in  Savaii.  He  was  incarnate  as  a  man,  who  had 
human  flesh  laid  before  him  when  he  chose  to  call  for  it. 
This  man's  power  extended  to  several  villages,  and  his  de- 
scendants are  traced  to  this  day."  Again,  those  ferocious 
anthropophagi  the  Fijians,  who  have  victims  buried  with 
them,  and  whose  apotheosized  chiefs  join  other  gods  to  whom 
"  human  flesh  is  still  the  most  valued  offering;  "  show  us 
the  entire  series  of  sequences — cannibalism  during  life,  can- 
nibal ghosts,  cannibal  deities,  and  human  sacrifices  made  as 
religious  rites.  So,  too,  was  it  with  the  ancient  Mexicans. 
The  man-eating  habits  of  their  ruling  race  were  accom- 
panied by  slayings  of  slaves,  etc.,  at  burials,  as  well  as  by 
slayings  of  prisoners  before  their  gods;  and  though  the  im- 
molations at  graves  were  not,  during  their  later  times, 
avowedly  food-offerings,  yet  we  may  suspect  that  they  were 
so  in  earlier  times,  on  seeing  how  literally  a  victim  immo- 
lated to  the  god  was  made  a  food-offering — the  heart  being 
torn  out,  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  idol,  and  its  lips  anointed 
with  the  blood.  When,  too,  we  read  that  the  Chibchas 
offered  men  to  the  Spaniards  as  food;  and  when  Acosta, 
remarking  that  the  Chibchas  were  not  cannibals,  asks  "  can 
they  have  believed  that  the  Spaniards,  as  sons  of  the  Sun 
(as  they  were  styled  by  them),  must  take  delight  in  the  bar- 
barous holocausts  they  offered  to  that  star? "  we  may  sus- 
pect that  their  immolations  at  funerals,  like  their  immola- 
tions to  the  Sun,  were  the  remains  of  an  extinct  cannibalism. 
Having  before  us  such  facts  as  that  some  Khonds  believe 
the  god  eats  the  person  killed  for  him;  that  the  Tahitians, 
thinking  their  gods  fed  on  the  spirits  of  the  dead,  provided 
them  with  such  spirits  by  frequent  slaughterings ;  and  that 
the  Tongans  made  offerings  of  children  to  their  gods,  who 
were  deified  chiefs;  we  cannot  doubt  that  human  sacrifices 


SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    269 

at  graves  had  originally  the  purpose  of  supplying  human 
flesh,  along  with  other  food,  for  the  soul  of  the  deceased; 
and  that  the  slaughter  of  victims  as  a  religious  rite  was 
a  sequence.  The  like  holds  of  slaying  men  as  at- 

tendants. We  have  seen  (§  104)  how  common,  in  uncivil- 
ized and  semi-civilized  societies,  is  the  killing  of  prisoners, 
slaves,  wives,  friends,  to  follow  the  departed;  and  in  some 
cases  there  is  a  repetition  of  the  observance.  By  the  Mexi- 
cans additional  slaves  were  slain  on  the  fifth  day  after  the 
burial,  on  the  twentieth,  on  the  fortieth,  on  the  sixtieth, 
and  on  the  eightieth  days.  In  Dahomey  there  are  frequent 
beheadings  that  the  victims,  going  to  the  other  world  to  serve 
the  dead  king,  may  carry  messages  from  his  living  descend- 
ant. Human  sacrifices  thus  repeated  to  propitiate  the  ghosts 
of  the  dead,  evidently  pass  without  break  into  the  periodic 
human  sacrifices  which  have  commonly  been  elements  in 
primitive  religions. 

In  §  89  were  brought  together,  from  peoples  in  all  parts 
of  the  world,  examples  of  blood-offerings  to  the  dead. 
Meaningless  as  such  offerings  otherwise  are,  they  have 
meanings  when  made  by  primitive  cannibals.  That  any  men, 
in  common  with  most  ferocious  brutes,  should  delight  in 
drinking  blood — especially  the  blood  of  their  own  species — 
is  almost  incredible  to  us.  But  on  reading  that  in  Australia 
human-  flesh  "  is  eaten  raw  "  by  "  the  blood-revengers ;  " 
that  the  Fijian  chief  Tanoa,  cut  off  a  cousin's  arm,  drank 
the  blood,  cooked  the  arm,  and  ate  it  in  presence  of  the 
owner;  and  that  the  cannibal  Yateans  will  exhume,  cook, 
and  eat,  bodies  that  have  been  buried  even  more  than  three 
days;  that  among  the  Haidahs  of  the  Pacific  States,  the 
taamish,  or  inspired  medicine-man,  "  springs  on  the  first 
person  he  meets,  bites  out  and  swallows  one  or  more  mouth- 
fuls  of  the  man's  living  flesh  wherever  he  can  fix  his  teeth, 
then  rushes  to  another  and  another;  "  and  that  among  the 
neighbouring  Xootkas  the  medicine-man,  instead  of  doing 
this,  "  is  satisfied  with  what  his  teeth  can  tear  from  the 


270  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

corpses  in  the  burial-places;  "  we  see  that  horrors  beyond 
our  imaginations  of  possibility  are  committed  by  primitivo 
men,  and,  among  them,  the  drinking  of  warm  human  blood. 
We  may  infer,  indeed,  that  the  vampire-legends  of  Euro- 
pean folk-lore,  grew  out  of  such  facts  concerning  primitive 
cannibals:  the  original  vampire  being  the  supposed  other- 
self  of  a  ferocious  savage,  still  seeking  to  satisfy  his  blood- 
sucking propensities.  And  we  shall  not  doubt  that  those 
blood-offerings  to  the  dead  described  in  §  89,  were  origin- 
ally, as  they  are  now  in  Dahomey,  "  drink  for  the  deceased." 
Indeed,  as  there  is  no  greater  difference  between  drinking 
animal  blood  and  drinking  human  blood,  than  there  is  be- 
tween eating  animal  flesh  and  eating  human  flesh,  hesita- 
tion disappears  on  reading  that  even  now,  the  Samoiedes 
delight  in  the  warm  blood  of  animals,  and  on  remembering 
that  Ulysses  describes  the  ghosts  in  the  Greek  Hades  as 
flocking  to  drink  the  sacrificial  blood  he  provides  for  them, 
and  as  being  refreshed  by  it.  If,  then,  blood,  shed 

at  a  funeral  was  at  first  meant  for  the  refreshment  of  the 
ghost — if  when  shed  on  subsequent  occasions,  as  by  the  san- 
guinary Dahomans  to  get  the  aid  of  a  dead  king's  ghost  in 
war,  it  became  a  blood-offering  to  a  supernatural  being  for 
special  propitiation;  we  can  scarcely  doubt  that  the  offer- 
ing of  human  blood  to  a  deity  with  a  like  motive,  is  but  a 
further  development  of  the  practice.  The  case  of  the  Mexi- 
cans is  typical.  Their  ruling  races  descended  from  conquer- 
ing cannibals ;  they  had  cannibal-gods,  whose  idols  were  fed 
with  human  hearts;  the  priests,  when  there  had  not  been 
recent  sacrifices,  reminded  the  kings  that  the  idols  "  were 
starving  with  hunger;  "  war  was  made,  to  take  prisoners, 
"  because  their  gods  demanded  something  to  eat ;  "  and 
thousands  were  for  this  reason  sacrificed  annually.  When 
we  add  the  facts  that  the  blood  of  victims  was  separately 
offered;  that  "the  Indians  gave  the  idols,  to  drink,  their 
own  blood,  drawn  from  their  ears;  "  "  that  the  priests  and 
dignified  persons  also  drew  blood  from  their  legs,  and  daubed 


SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    271 

% 

their  temples;  "  and  that  "  the  effusion  of  blood  was  fre- 
quent and  daily  with  some  of  the  priests;  "  we  shall  see  an 
obvious  filiation.  Even  the  records  of  ancient 

Eastern  nations  describe  blood-offerings  as  parts  of  the  two 
sets  of  rites.  That  self -bleeding  at  funerals  occurred  among 
the  Hebrews,  is  implied  by  the  passage  in  Deuteronomy 
which  forbids  them  to  cut  themselves  for  the  dead.  And 
that  self-bleeding  was  a  religious  ceremony  among  their 
neighbours,  there  is  direct  proof.  In  propitiation  of  their 
god  the  prophets  of  Baal  cut  themselves  "  till  the  blood 
gushed  out  upon  them." 

The  only  question  is  how  far  this  kind  of  offering  has 
passed  into  the  kind  we  have  now  to  glance  at — the  sacri- 
ficing a  part  of  the  body  as  a  mark  of  subordination.  In  §  89 
were  given  many  cases  of  mutilation  as  a  funeral  rite,  and 
many  more  might  be  added.  Among  the  J^ateotetains  of 
North  America,  a  woman  "  cuts  off  one  joint  of  a  finger  upon 
the  death  of  a  near  relative.  In  consequence  of  this  practice, 
some  old  women  may  be  seen  with  two  joints  off  every  finger 
on  both  hands."  On  the  death  of  a  Salish  chief,  it  is  the 
custom  for  the  bravest  woman  and  the  man  who  is  to  be  the 
succeeding  chief,  to  cut  off  portions  of  one  another's  flesh, 
and  throw  them  into  the  fire  along  with  meat  and  a  root. 
Paralleling  these  funeral  mutilations,  we  elsewhere  in 
America  find  mutilations  as  religious  observances.  Some 
Mexicans  practised  circumcision  (or  something  like  it),  and 
self-injuries  much  more  serious  than  circumcision,  in  pro- 
pitiation of  their  deities.  The  Guancavilcas,  a  Peruvian 
people,  pulled  out  three  teeth  from  each  jaw  of  their  young 
children,  which  they  thought  "  very  acceptable  to  their 
gods;  "  while,  as  we  before  saw,  knocking  out  one  of  the 
front  teeth  is  a  rite  at  the  funeral  of  a  chief  in  the  Sandwich 
Islands. 

Proofs  that  at  funerals  the  cutting-off  of  hair  is  usual 
among  savages  have  been  given  in  abundance ;  and  it  occurs 
also  as  a  religious  sacrifice.  In  the  Sandwich  Islands,  on  the 


272  THE  DATA   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

occasion  of  the  volcanic  eruption  of  1803,  when,  to  appease 
the  gods,  many  offerings  were  made  in  vain,  we  are  told  that 
at  length  the  king  Tamehameha  cut  off  part  of  his  own  hair, 
which  was  considered  sacred,  and  threw  it  into  the  torrent, 
as  the  most  valuable  offering.  By  the  Peruvians,  too,  hair 
was  given  as  an  act  of  worship.  "  In  making  an  offering 
they  pulled  a  hair  out  of  their  eyebrows,"  says  Garcilasso; 
and  Arriaga  and  Jos.  de  Acosta  similarly  describe  the  pre- 
sentation of  eyelashes  or  eyebrows  to  the  deities.  In  ancient 
Central  America  part  of  the  marriage  ceremony  was  a  sacri- 
fice of  hair.  Even  among  the  Greeks  there  was  a  kindred 
observance :  on  a  marriage  the  bride  sacrificed  a  lock  of  her 
hair  to  Aphrodite. 

Alike,  then,  in  the  immolation  of  human  victims,  in  the 
offering  of  blood  that  flows  from  the  living  as  well  as  the 
dying,  in  the  offering  of  portions  of  the  body,  and  even  in 
the  offering  of  hair,  we  see  that  funeral  rites  are  paralleled 
by  religious  rites. 

§  142.  Is  there  no  further  way  in  which  the  goodwill  of 
these  invisible  beings  may  be  secured  ?  If  savages  in  general 
think,  as  the  Aleutian  Islanders  do,  that  the  shades  of  the 
departed  must  be  propitiated  "  as  being  able  to  give  good 
and  evil,"  will  they  not  ask  this  question  and  find  an  affirma- 
tive answer?  When  alive  their  relatives  were  pleased  by 
applause;  and  now  that,  though  invisible,  they  are  often 
within  hearing,  praise  will  still  be  pleasing  to  them.  Hence 
another  group  of  observances. 

Bancroft  quotes  from  an  eye-witness  the  account  of  a 
funeral  in  which  an  American  Indian,  carrying  on  his  back 
the  corpse  of  his  wife  to  the  burial  cave,  expresses  his  sense 
of  loss  by  chanting  her  various  virtues,  and  is  followed  by 
others  of  the  tribe  repeating  his  utterances.  This  practice, 
which  is  in  large  measure  the  natural  expression  of  bereave- 
ment, is  a  prevalent  practice  into  which  there  enters  also  the 
idea  of  propitiation.  By  the  Tupis,  at  a  funeral  feast, 


SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    273 

"  songs  were  sung  in  praise  of  the  dead."  Among  the  Lower 
Californians,  one  of  the  honours  paid  to  the  departed  is  that 
"  a  quama,  or  priest,  sings  his  praises;  "  and  the  Chippewas 
make  praises  permanent  by  placing  at  a  man's  grave  a  post 
bearing  "  devices  denoting  the  number  of  times  he  has  been 
in  battle,  and  the  number  of  scalps  he  has  taken/''  By  par- 
tially-civilized American  peoples,  funeral  laudations  were 
much  more  elaborated.  In  San  Salvador  "  they  chanted  the 
lineage  and  deeds  of  the  dead  "  for  four  days  and  nights ;  the 
Chibchas  "  sang  dirges  and  the  great  achievements  of  the 
deceased;  "  and  during  ancient  Peruvian  obsequies,  they 
traversed  the  village,  "  declaring  in  their  songs  the  deeds  of 
the  dead  chief."  Like  observances  occur  in  Polynesia.  On 
the  occasion  of  a  death  in  Tahiti,  there  are  "  elegiac  ballads, 
prepared  by  the  bards,  and  recited  for  the  consolation  of  the 
family."  We  trace  the  same  practice  in  Africa.  The  Man- 
dingoes,  at  a  burial,  deliver  a  eulogium  on  the  departed ;  and 
by  the  ancient  Egyptians,  the  like  usage  was  developed  in  a 
degree  proportionate  to  the  elaboration  of  their  social  life. 
Xot  only  did  they  sing  commemorative  hymns  when  a  king 
died,  but  kindred  praises  were  general  at  deaths.  There 
were  hired  mourners  to  enumerate  the  deceased's  virtues; 
and  when  a  man  of  rank  was  deposited  in  his  tomb,  the 
priest  read  from  a  papyrus  an  account  of  his  good  deeds,  and 
the  multitude  joined  in  praising  him — uttered  something 
like  responses. 

Frequently  eulogies  do  not  end  with  the  funeral.  The 
Brazilian  Indians,  "  sing  in  honour  of  their  dead  as  often  as 
they  pass  near  their  graves."  We  read  in  Bancroft  that 
"  for  a  long  time  after  a  death,  relatives  repair  daily  at  sun- 
rise and  sunset  to  the  vicinity  of  the  grave  to  sing  songs  of 
mourning  and  praise."  In  Peru,  for  a  month  after  death, 
"  they  loudly  shouted  out  the  deeds  of  the  late  Ynca  in  war, 
and  the  good  he  had  done  to  the  provinces.  .  .  .  After  the 
first  month  they  did  the  same  every  fortnight,  at  each  phase 
of  the  moon,  and  this  went  on  the  whole  year."  Moreover, 


274:  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

"  bards  and  minstrels  were  appointed  to  chronicle  his 
achievements,  and  their  songs  continued  to  be  rehearsed  at 
high  festivals." 

The  motive  parallels  the  religious  motive.  By  the  Ama- 
zulu  these  praises  of  the  dead  are  repeated  for  the  avowed 
purpose  of  gaining  favours  or  escaping  punishments.  An- 
swering the  reproaches  of  his  brother's  angry  ghost,  a  Zulu 
says — u  I  do  call  on  you,  and  laud  you  by  your  laud-giving 
names."  Again,  "  if  there  is  illness  in  the  village,  the  eldest 
son  lauds  him  [the  father]  with  the  laud-giving  names 
which  he  gained  when  fighting  with  the  enemy,  and  at  the 
same  time  lauds  all  the  other  Amatongo "  [ancestral 
ghosts].  Further,  we  have  proof  that  in  their  desire  for 
praise,  these  ancestral  ghosts  are  jealous  ghosts.  When  by 
a  diviner,  it  has  been  determined  which  ancestral  ghost  has 
inflicted  disease,  this  ghost  is  singled  out  for  eulogy.  Here 
is  the  statement  of  a  Zulu  named  Umpengula  Mbanda: — 
"  Therefore  he  is  called  upon  first,  and  it  is  said,  '  So-and-so,  son 
of  So-and-so,'  he  being  lauded  by  his  laud-giving  names;  then  they 
proceed  to  his  father,  and  he  too  is  mentioned  in  connexion  with  the 
disease ;  and  so  in  time  they  come  to  the  last ;  and  so  there  is  an  end, 
•when  it  is  said,  '  Ye  people  of  Gwala,  who  did  so-and-so,'  (his  great 
deeds  being  mentioned),  '  come  all  of  you.'  " 

So  that,  beginning  with  eulogy  of  the  dead  as  a  funeral 
rite,  passing  to  praises  repeated  for  a  time,  then  to  praises 
both  occasional  and  periodic  that  are  established,  we  rise  to 
the  characteristics  of  religious  praises.  Moreover,  the  two 
are  alike  in  the  ascribed  demand  for  them  by  supernatural 
beings ;  in  the  nature  of  them  as  narrating  great  deeds ;  and 
in  the  motive  for  them  as  a  means  of  obtaining  benefits  or 
avoiding  evils. 

§  143.  Yet  another  parallelism.  Along  with  praises  of 
the  dead  there  go  prayers  to  them.  The  Bambiri  "  pray  to 
departed  chiefs  and  relatives;  "  and  in  Equatorial  Africa, 
in  times  of  distress  the  people  go  to  the  forest  and  cry  to  the 


SACKED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    275 

spirits  of  those  who  have  passed  away.  The  Amazulu  join 
prayers  with  their  sacrifices.  One  of  Callaway's  informants 
says : — 

"The  owner  of  the  bullock  having  prayed  to  the  Amatongo,  say- 
ing '  There  is  your  bullock,  ye  spirits  of  our  people ; '  and  as  he  prays 
naming  grandfathers  and  grandmothers  who  are  dead,  saying,  '  There 
is  your  food ;  I  pray  for  a  healthy  body,  that  I  may  live  comfortably ; 
and  thou,  So-and-so,  treat  me  with  mercy  ;  and  thou,  So-and-so,' 
mentioning  by  name  all  of  their  family  who  are  dead." 
The  Yeddahs,  again,  think  themselves  guarded  by  the  spirits 
of  "  their  ancestors  and  their  children;  "  and  "  in  every 
calamity,  in  every  want,  they  call  on  them  for  aid."  They 
"  call  on  their  deceased  ancestors  by  name.  '  Come,  and  par- 
take of  this!  Give  us  maintenance,  as  you  did  when  liv- 
ing !  '  A  Dakotah,  when  going  hunting,  utters  the  prayer 
— "  Spirits  or  ghosts,  have  mercy  on  me,  and  show  me  where 
I  can  find  a  deer."  By  the  Banks'  Islanders,  "  prayers,  as 
a  rule,  are  made  to  dead  men  and  not  to  spirits."  Turner, 
describing  the  Vateans,  who  "  worship  the  spirits  of  their 
ancestors,"  says  "  they  pray  to  them  over  the  kava-bowl, 
for  health  and  prosperity;  "  and,  describing  the  adjacent 
Tannese,  he  says  that,  sacrificing  first-fruits  to  their  dead  and 
deified  chiefs,  the  living  chief  prays  aloud  thus — "  Com- 
passionate father,  here  is  some  food  for  you;  eat  it;  be  kind 
to  us  on  account  of  it." 

Only  in  the  supposed  origin  or  nature  of  the  supernat- 
ural being  prayed  to,  do  prayers  like  these  differ  from  the 
prayers  of  more  civilized  races  to  their  divinities.  In  the 
Iliad,  Chryses,  Apollo's  priest,  is  represented  as  saying — 
"  O  Smintheus!  if  ever  I  built  a  temple  gracious  in  thine 
eyes,  or  if  ever  I  burnt  to  thee  fat  flesh  of  thighs  of  bulls  or 
goats,  fulfil  now  this  my  desire;  let  the  Danauns  pay  by 
their  arrows  for  my  tears."  So,  too,  Kameses,  calling  on 
Ammon  for  aid  in  battle,  reminds  him  of  the  30,000  bulls 
he  has  sacrificed  to  him.*  Between  the  Trojan  or  Egyptian, 

*  Why  such  vast  numbers  of  animals  were  slaughtered,  is  a  question  to 


276  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

and  the  Zulu  or  New  Caledonian,  there  is  no  difference  in 
feeling  or  idea. 

Of  course,  along  with  mental  evolution  there  go  modi- 
fications in  the  prayers,  as  in  the  conceptions  associated  with 
them.  The  Hebrew  prophets,  who  in  later  times  represent 
the  Hebrew  God  as  not  delighting  in  the  odour  of  offerings, 
have  evidently  advanced  far  enough  to  abandon  that  gross 
kind  of  religious  bribery  which  asks  material  benefits  pro- 
portionate to  material  sacrifices;  though  it  is  manifest  from 
the  denunciations  these  prophets  uttered,  that  the  Hebrew 
people  at  large  had  not  dropped  the  primitive  beliefs  and 
practices.  But  while  the  notion  of  the  partially  civilized  is 
not  the  same  in  form  as  the  notion  of  the  uncivilized,  it  is 
the  same  in  essence.  The  mediaeval  knight  who,  praying 
for  aid  to  the  Virgin  or  to  a  saint,  promises  a  chapel  if  he  is 
delivered,  adopts  the  same  policy  as  does  the  savage  who 
bargains  with  the  ancestral  ghost  to  exchange  protection  for 
provision. 

§  144.  There  are  sundry  other  parallelisms  which  I  can- 
not spare  space  to  exhibit  in  full.  A  paragraph  only  can  be 
devoted  to  each. 

The  East  Africans  believe  "  the  spirits  of  the  departed 
know  what  those  they  have  left  behind  them  are  doing,  and 
are  pleased  or  not,  according  as  their  deeds  are  good  or  evil ;  " 
and  during  a  death-lament  the  North  American  Indians  ad- 
dress the  spirit  of  the  departed,  promising  to  behave  well. 
Here  reprobation  of  the  ancestral  ghost  is  feared,  just  as 

which  no  answer  seems  forthcoming.  Since  the  first  edition  of  this  work, 
however,  I  have  come  upon  a  clue.  In  the  Rig  Veda  "  there  is  a  passage  in 
which  Vishnu  is  described  as  carrying  away  the  broth  made  of  a  hundred 
buffaloes  and  a  hog.  Elsewhere  it  is  said  (vi,  17,  11)  'For  thee,  Indra,  whom 
all  the  Maruts  in  concert  magnified,  Pushan  and  Vishnu  cooked  a  hundred 
buffaloes.' "  Now  observe  the  meaning  of  this.  The  Mahabharata  "  describes 
a  king  named  Rantideva,  who  used  to  slaughter  daily  two  thousand  head  of 
cattle  besides  as  many  other  animals,  for  use  in  his  kitchen  "  to  support  his 
retinue  and  dependants. 


SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    277 

among  civilized  races,  divine  reprobation  is  feared ;  and  ap- 
proval is  sought  with  kindred  motives. 

There  is  evidence,  too,  of  repentance  caused  by  supposed 
ghostly  reprobation.  Of  the  Turkomans,  Yamb6ry  tells  us 
that  "  no  greater  punishment  can  befall  a  living  man,  than 
to  be  accused  before  the  shade  of  his  departed  father  or  an- 
cestor. This  is  done  by  planting  a  lance  upon  the  top  of 
the  grave.  .  .  .  No  sooner  did  Oraz  perceive  the  lance  fixed 
upon  the  high  Yoska  of  his  grandfather,  when  in  the  silence 
of  the  following  night  he  led  the  horse  back  to  the  tent  of 
the  Mollah  and  tied  it  to  its  former  place.  This  act  of  resti- 
tution, as  he  himself  told  me,  will  pain  him  for  a  long  time 
to  come.  But  it  is  better  to  lie  in  the  black  earth  than  to 
have  disturbed  the  repose  of  one's  ancestors." 

Among  the  Iroquois  "  a  prominent  part  of  the  cere- 
monial [mourning  for  Sachems]  consisted  in  the  repetition 
of  their  ancient  laws."  In  this  we  trace  an  analogy  to  the 
repetition  of  divine  injunctions  as  a  religious  observance. 

Lighting  a  fire  at  the  grave  for  the  benefit  of  the  de- 
ceased, we  found  to  be  a  not  infrequent  funeral  rite;  and 
in  some  cases  the  fire  was  kept  alight,  or  re-lighted,  for  a 
long  period.  On  adding  the  facts  that  lamps  were  kept 
burning  in  Egyptian  tombs,  as  also  in  the  sepulchres  of  the 
Romans,  we  see  that  maintenance  of  a  sacred  fire  in  a  temple 
again  exemplifies  the  development  of  funeral  rites  into  re- 
ligious rites. 

Expressions  of  grief  naturally  characterize  funerals,  and 
grow  into  funeral  rites:  sometimes,  in  advanced  societies, 
being  swollen  by  the  cries  of  hired  mourners.  It  was  thus 
with  the  ancient  Egyptians;  and  with  the  ancient  Egyptians 
wailing  was  also  a  religious  rite.  Once  a  year,  they  offered 
first-fruits  on  the  altar  of  Isis  with  "  doleful  lamentations." 
During  an  annual  festival  at  Busiris,  which  was  the  alleged 
burial-place  of  Osiris,  the  votaries  having  fasted  and  put  on 
mourning  dresses,  uttered  a  lament  round  a  burnt-offering: 
the  death  of  Osiris  being  the  subject  of  the  lament.  Ad- 
19 


278  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

herents  to  the  theory  of  nature-myths  of  course  find  a  sym- 
bolic meaning  for  this  observance;  but  to  others  it  will  ap- 
pear significant  that  this  further  likeness  between  funeral 
rites  and  religious  rites,  occurred  among  people  who  sacri- 
ficed so  elaborately  to  their  ordinary  dead,  and  who  were 
characterized  by  the  unparalleled  persistence  of  their  cus- 
toms. 

Along  with  dislike  to  tell  his  name,  which  the  savage 
thinks  will  put  him  in  the  power  of  one  who  learns  it,  there 
goes  dislike  to  name  the  dead:  the  exercise  of  the  implied 
power  over  them,  being  supposed  to  excite  their  anger.  So 
strong  is  this  feeling  among  the  Malagasy,  that  "  they  ac- 
count it  a  crime  to  mention  them  [the  dead]  by  the  names 
they  had  when  living."  .  Similarly,  among  some  peoples, 
the  calling  of  deities  by  their  true  names  has  been  inter- 
dicted or  considered  improper.  The  Chinese  say  "  it  is  not 
lawful  to  use  his  [the  supreme  ruler's]  name  lightly,  we 
name  him  by  his  residence,  which  is  in  Tien  "  [heaven]. 
Again,  Exod.  Ill,  13-15,  proves  that  the  Hebrew  God  was 
not  to  be  referred  to  by  name.  And  Herodotus  carefully 
avoids  naming  Osiris.* 

In  Kaffir-land  the  grave  of  a  chief  is  an  asylum ;  and  in 
the  Tonga  Islands  the  cemeteries  where  the  great  chiefs  are 
buried,  have  such  sacredness  that  enemies  meeting  there 

*  Prof.  Max  Miiller  thinks  (Hlbbert  Lrctures,  p.  85)  that  this  statement  will 
"  surprise  "  those  who  remember  that  Herodotus  says  the  Egyptians  identified 
Osiris  with  Dionysus.  Now  considering  that  in  Bk.  II,  Ch.  3,  Herodotus 
premises  that  certain  things  "  concerning  their  religion,"  he  will  repeat  "  only 
when  compelled  to  do  so ; "  and  considering  that  in  identifying  Osiris  with 
Dionysus  he  was  "  compelled  "  to  name  both;  this  exception  does  not,  I  think, 
go  for  much.  When  I  add  that  in  Book  II,  Ch.  61,  Herodotus  describes  the 
ceremonies  at  Busiris  as  being  "  in  honour  of  a  god,  whose  name  a  religious 
scruple  forbids  me  to  mention,"  and  that  in  Chs.  86,  132,  170,  171,  Osiris  is 
in  like  ways  referred  to  as  one  not  to  be  named  ;  I  think  readers  will  be  "  sur- 
prised "  that  Prof.  Max  Miiller  should  cither  have  been  unaware  of  these  facts, 
or,  b?ing  aware  of  them,  should  have  referred  to  my  statement  as  though  it 
were  hrsclesa. 


SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    279 

must  regard  each  other  as  friends.  Beecham  says  that  on 
the  Gold  Coast  the  fetich-house  forms  a  sort  of  sanctuary  to 
run-away  slaves.  Here  we  see  arising  the  right  of  sanctuary, 
attaching  to  the  temples  of  deities  among  higher  peoples. 

Speaking  of  oaths  among  the  Nasamonians,  Herodotus 
says  u  the  man,  as  he  swears,  lays  his  hand  upon  the  tomb 
of  some  one  considered  to  have  been  pre-eminently  just  and 
good,  and  so  doing  swears  by  his  name."  In  Sumatra,  "  the 
place  of  greatest  solemnity  for  administering  an  oath,  is  the 
.  .  .  bury  ing-ground  of  their  ancestors."  In  mediaeval  Eu- 
rope "  oaths  over  the  tombs  and  relics  of  saints  were  of  fre- 
quent occurrence;  "  and  a  capitulary  required  them  "  to  be 
administered  in  a  church  and  over  relics,  invoking  the  name 
of  God,  and  those  saints  whose  remains  were  below."  The 
transition  from  the  original  to  the  developed  form  is  clear. 

Visiting  the  grave  to  take  food,  to  repeat  praises,  to  ask 
aid,  implies  a  journey;  and  this  journey,  short  if  the  grave 
is  near,  becomes,  if  the  grave  is  far  off,  a  pilgrimage.  That 
this  is  its  origin,  proof  is  given  by  Vambery  in  describing 
certain  predatory  tribes  of  Turkomans,  who,  regarding  as  a 
martyr  one  of  their  number  who  is  killed,  adorn  his  grave 
and  "  make  pilgrimages  to  the  holy  place,  where  they  im- 
plore with  tears  of  contrition  the  intercession  of  the  canon- 
ized robber."  Filial  piety,  taking  a  more  expanded  form  as 
the  ancestral  ghost  comes  to  be  dominated  by  the  ghost  of 
the  distinguished  man,  the  pilgrimage  to  a  relation's  burial- 
place  passes  into  the  religious  pilgrimage.  Habitually  a 
grave  is  the  terminus :  the  city  where  Mahomet  was  buried 
as  well  as  that  in  which  he  was  born;  the  tomb  of  Baha- 
ed-din,  regarded  as  a  second  Mahomet ;  the  tope  containing 
relics  of  Buddha;  the  sepulchre  of  Christ.  Moreover, 
Chaucer's  poem  reminds  us  that  the  tombs  of  saints  have 
been,  and  still  continue  to  be  on  the  Continent,  the  goals  of 
pilgrimages  among  Christians. 

Yet  one  more  analogy.  In  some  cases  parts  of  the  dead 
are  swallowed  by  the  living,  who  seek  thus  to  inspire  them- 


280  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

selves  with  the  good  qualities  of  the  dead;  and  we  saw 
(§  133)  that  the  dead  are  supposed  to  be  thereby  honoured. 
The  implied  notion  was  shown  to  be  associated  with  the 
notion  that  the  nature  of  another  being,  inhering  in  all  frag- 
ments of  his  body,  inheres,  too,  in  the  unconsumed  part  of 
anything  incorporated  with  his  body;  and  with  the  further 
notion  that  between  those  who  swallow  diif erent  parts  of  the 
same  food  some  community  of  nature  is  established.  Hence 
such  beliefs  as  that  ascribed  by  Bastian  to  certain  negroes, 
who  think  that  on  eating  and  drinking  consecrated  food 
they  eat  and  drink  the  god  himself — such  god  being  an 
ancestor,  who  has  taken  his  share.  Various  ceremonies 
which  savages  adopt  are  prompted  by  this  conception;  as, 
for  instance,  the  choosing  a  totem.  Among  the  Mosquito 
Indians,  "  the  manner  of  obtaining  this  guardian  was  to 
proceed  to  some  secluded  spot  and  offer  up  a  sacrifice :  with 
the  beast  or  bird  which  thereupon  appeared,  in  dream  or  in 
reality,  a  compact  for  life  was  made,  by  drawing  blood  from 
various  parts  of  the  body."  This  blood,  supposed  to  be 
taken  by  the  chosen  animal,  connected  the  two;  and  the 
animal's  "  life  became  so  bound  up  with  their  own  that  the 
death  of  one  involved  that  of  the  other."  *  And  now  mark 
that  in  these  same  regions  this  idea  originated  a  religious 
observance.  Mendieta,  describing  a  ceremony  used  by  the 
Aztecs,  says — "  they  had  also  a  sort  of  communion.  .  .  . 
They  made  a  sort  of  small  idols  of  seeds  .  .  .  and  ate  them 
as  the  body  or  memory  of  their  gods."  As  the  seeds  were 
cemented  partly  by  the  blood  of  sacrificed  boys;  as  their 

*  We  here  get  a  clue  to  the  origin  of  various  strange  ceremonies  by  which 
men  bind  themselves  to  one  another.  Michelet,  in  his  Origines  du  Droit 
Francais  (II,  35),  writes — "  Boire  le  sang  1'un  de  1'autre  c'e'tait  pour  ainsi 
dire  se  faire  meme  chair.  Ce  symbole  si  expressif  se  trouve  chez  un  grand 
nombre  de  peuplcs ; "  and  he  gives  instances  from  various  ancient  races.  But, 
as  we  here  see  this  practice  is  not  originally  adopted  as  a  symbol  (no  practices 
begin  as  symbols),  but  is  prompted  by  the  belief  that  a  community  of  nature 
is  thus  established,  and  a  community  of  power  over  one  another.  Obviously 
the  exchange  of  names  between  savages  results  from  an  allied  belief. 


SACRED  PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    281 

gods  were  cannibal  gods;  as  Huitzilopochtli,  whose  wor- 
ship included  this  rite,  was  the  god  to  whom  human  sacri- 
fices were  most  extensive;  it  is  clear  that  the  aim  was  to 
establish  community  with  him  by  taking  blood  in  common. 
So  that  what,  among  certain  of  these  allied  American  races, 
was  a  funeral  rite,  by  which  survivors  sought  to  inspire 
themselves  with  the  virtues  of  the  dead,  and  to  bind  them- 
selves to  the  ghost,  became,  among  the  more  civilized,  modi- 
fied into  an  observance  implying  inspiration  by,  and  fealty 
to,  one  of  their  deities. 

§  145.  Thus,  evidence  abundant  in  amount  and  varied 
in  kind,  justifies  the  statement  made  at  the  close  of  the  last 
chapter.  It  was  pointed  out  that  the  souls  of  the  dead,  con- 
ceived by  savages  sometimes  as  beneficent  agents,  but  chiefly 
as  the  causers  of  evils,  might  be  variously  dealt  with — might 
be  deceived,  resisted,  expelled,  or  might  be  treated  in  ways 
likely  to  secure  goodwill  and  mitigate  anger.  It  was  as- 
serted that  from  this  last  policy  all  religious  observances 
take  their  rise.  We  have  seen  how  they  do  so. 

The  original  sacred  place  is  the  place  where  the  dead 
are,  and  which  their  ghosts  are  supposed  to  frequent;  the 
sheltering  cave,  or  house,  or  other  chamber  for  the  dead, 
becomes  the  sacred  chamber  or  temple;  and  that  on  which 
offerings  for  the  dead  are  put  becomes  the  sacred  support 
for  offerings — the  altar.  Food  and  drink  and  other  things 
laid  for  the  dead,  grow  into  sacrifices  and  libations  to  the 
gods;  while  immolations  of  victims,  blood-offerings,  mutila- 
tions, cuttings-off  of  hair,  originally  occurring  at  the  grave, 
occur  afterwards  before  idols,  and  as  marks  of  fealty  to  a 
deity.  Fasting  as  a  funeral  rite,  passes  into  fasting  as  a 
religious  rite;  and  lamentations,  too,  occur  under  both 
forms.  Praises  of  the  dead,  chanted  at  the  burial  and  after- 
wards, and  recurring  at  festivals,  pass  into  praises  forming 
parts  of  religious  worship;  and  prayers  made  to  the  dead 
for  aid,  for  blessing,  for  protection,  become  prayers  made 


282  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

to  divinities  for  like  advantages.  Ancestral  ghosts  supposed 
to  cause  diseases,  as  gods  send  pestilences,  are  similarly  pro- 
pitiated by  special  sacrifices :  the  ascribed  motives  of  ghosts 
and  gods  being  the  same  in  kind,  and  the  modes  of  appeal- 
ing to  those  motives  the  same.  The  parallelism  runs  out 
into  various  details.  There  is  oversight  of  conduct  by  ghosts 
as  there  is  by  deities;  there  are  promises  of  good  behaviour 
to  both;  there  is  penitence  before  the  one  as  before  the 
other.  There  is  repetition  of  injunctions  given  by  the  dead, 
as  there  is  repetition  of  divine  injunctions.  There  is  a  main- 
tenance of  fires  at  graves  and  in  sepulchral  chambers,  as 
there  is  in  temples.  Burial-places  are  sometimes,  like  tem- 
ples, used  as  places  of  refuge.  A  distinguished  dead  man  is 
invoked  to  witness  an  oath,  as  God  is  invoked.  Secrecy  is 
maintained  respecting  the  name  of  the  dead,  as  in  some  cases 
respecting  the  name  of  a  god.  There  are  pilgrimages  to  the 
graves  of  relatives  and  martyrs,  as  well  as  pilgrimages  to 
the  graves  of  supposed  divine  persons.  And  in  America, 
certain  less-civilized  races  adopted  a  method  of  binding  the 
living  with  the  dead  by  seeking  to  participate  in  the  quali- 
ties of  the  ghost,  which  a  more  civilized  American  race 
paralleled  by  a  method  of  binding  to  a  deity  through  a  kin- 
dred ceremony  for  establishing  communion. 

Can  so  many  and  such  varied  similarities  have  arisen  in 
the  absence  of  genetic  relationship?  Suppose  the  two  sets 
of  phenomena  unconnected — suppose  primitive  men  had,  as 
some  think,  the  consciousness  of  a  Universal  Power  whence 
they  and  all  other  things  proceeded.  What  probability 
would  there  be  that  to  such  a  Power  they  would  perform 
an  act  like  that  performed  to  the  dead  body  of  a  fellow  sav- 
age? And  if  one  such  community  would  not  be  probable, 
what  would  be  the  probability  of  two  such  communities? 
"What  the  probability  of  four?  What  the  probability  of  the 
score  above  specified  ?  In  the  absence  of  causal  relation  the 
chances  against  such  a  correspondence  would  be  almost  in- 
finity to  one. 


SACRED   PLACES,  TEMPLES,  AND  ALTARS;  ETC.    283 

Again,  if  the  two  sets  of  rites  have  a  common  root,  we 
may  see  how  they  come  to  coexist  under  forms  differing  only 
in  their  degrees  of  elaboration.  But  otherwise,  how  does 
it  happen  that  in  sundry  societies  the  two  sets  of  rites  have 
been,  or  are,  simultaneously  observed  in  like  ways?  In 
Egypt  at  funerals,  and  afterwards  in  tombs,  the  dead  were 
lauded  and  sacrificed  to  as  their  deities  were  lauded  and  sacri- 
ficed to.  Every  day  in  Mexico  there  were  burial-oblations 
of  food  and  drink,  slayings  of  servants,  offerings  of  flowers, 
just  as  there  were  daily  ceremonies  of  like  kinds  before  their 
gods;  and  images  of  the  dead  were  preserved  and  wor- 
shipped as  were  images  of  the  gods.  Peruvians  poured  out 
human  blood  on  sepulchres,  and  gave  it  to  idols;  sacrificed 
victims  to  the  deceased  chief  and  victims  to  the  deity;  cut 
off  their  hair  for  the  dead  and  presented  their  hair  to  the 
Sun;  praised  and  prayed  to  embalmed  bodies,  as  they 
praised  and  prayed  to  divinities ;  and  made  obeisances  to  the 
one  as  to  the  other.  If  between  the  father  regarded  as  an- 
cestor and  the  father  regarded  as  divinity  there  is  no  con- 
nexion, the  likenesses  between  these  coexisting  observances 
are  inexplicable. 

Xor  is  this  all.  Were  there  no  such  origination  of  re- 
ligious rites  out  of  funeral  rites,  it  would  be  impossible  to 
understand  the  genesis  of  ceremonies  apparently  so  absurd. 
How  could  men  possibly  have  come  to  think,  as  did  the 
Mexicans,  that  a  stone-bowl  full  of  human  blood  would 
please  the  Sun?  or  that  the  Sun  would  be  pleased  by  burn- 
ing incense,  as  the  Egyptians  thought  ?  In  what  imaginable 
way  were  the  Peruvians  led  to  believe  that  the  Sun  was  pro- 
pitiated by  blowing  towards  it  hairs  from  their  eye-brows; 
or  why  did  they  suppose  that  by  doing  the  like  towards  the 
sea  they  would  mitigate  its  violence  ?  From  what  antecedent 
did  there  result  such  strange  ideas  as  those  of  the  Santals, 
who,  worshipping  "  the  Great  Mountain,"  sacrifice  to  it 
beasts,  flowers,  and  fruit?  Or  why  should  the  Hebrews 
think  to  please  Jahveh  by  placing  on  an  altar  flesh,  bread, 


284  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

wine,  and  incense;  which  were  the  things  placed  by  the 
Egyptians  on  altars  before  their  mummies?  The  assump- 
tion that  men  gratuitously  act  in  irrational  ways  is  inad- 
missible. But  if  these  propitiations  of  deities  were  devel- 
oped from  propitiations  of  the  dead,  their  seeming  irration- 
ality is  accounted  for. 

We  have,  then,  numerous  lines  of  evidence  which,  con- 
verging to  a  focus,  are  by  themselves  enough  to  dissipate 
any  doubt  respecting  this  natural  genesis  of  religious  ob- 
servances. Traceable  as  it  is  in  so  many  ways,  the  develop- 
ment of  funeral  rites  into  worship  of  the  dead,  and  event- 
ually into  worship  of  deities,  becomes  clear.  We  shall  find 
that  it  becomes  clearer  still  on  contemplating  other  facts 
under  other  aspects. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

ANCESTOR-WORSHIP    IN    GENERAL. 

§  146.  FROM  various  parts  of  the  world,  witnesses  of 
different  nations  and  divergent  beliefs  bring  evidence  that 
there  exist  men  who  are  either  wholly  without  ideas  of 
supernatural  beings,  or  whose  ideas  of  them  are  extremely 
vague.  "  When  Father  Junipero  Serra  established  the  Mis- 
sion of  Dolores  in  1776,  the  shores  of  San  Francisco  Bay 
were  thickly  populated  by  the  Ahwashtees,  Ohlones,  Al- 
tahmos,  Romanons,  Tuolomos,  and  other  tribes.  The  good 
Father  found  the  field  unoccupied,  for,  in  the  vocabulary 
of  these  people,  there  is  found  no  word  for  god,  angel,  or 
devil;  they  held  no  theory  of  origin  or  destiny."  This  testi- 
mony, which  Bancroft  cites  respecting  the  Indians  of  Cali- 
fornia, corresponds  with  the  testimonies  of  old  Spanish 
writers  respecting  some  South  American  peoples.  Garci- 
lasso  says  that  "  the  Chirihuanas  and  the  natives  of  the  Cape 
de  Pasau  .  .  .  had  no  inclination  to  worship  anything  high 
or  low,  neither  from  interested  motives  nor  from  fear;  " 
Balboa  mentions  tribes  without  any  religion  as  having  been 
met  with  by  Ynca  Yupangui ;  and  Avendano  asserts  that  in 
his  time  the  Antis  had  no  worship  whatever.  Many  kindred 
instances  are  given  by  Sir  John  Lubbock,  and  further  ones 
will  be  found  in  Mr.  Tylor's  Primitive  Culture.  But  I  agree 
with  Mr.  Tylor  that  the  evidence  habitually  implies  some 
notion,  however  wavering  and  inconsistent,  of  a  reviving 

other-self.     Where  this  has  not  become  a  definite  belief,  the 

285 


286  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

substance  of  a  belief  is  shown  by  the  funeral  rites  and  by 
the  fear  of  the  dead. 

Leaving  unsettled  the  question  whether  there  are  men 
in  whom  dreams  have  not  generated  the  notion  of  a  double, 
and  the  sequent  notion  that  at  death  the  double  has  gone 
away,  we  may  hold  it  as  settled  that  the  first  traceable  con- 
ception of  a  supernatural  being  is  the  conception  of  a  ghost. 
This  exists  where  no  other  idea  of  the  same  order  exists; 
and  this  exists  where  multitudinous  other  ideas  of  the  same 
order  exist. 

That  belief  in  a  surviving  duplicate  is  produced  among 
the  savage,  and  is  perpetually  reproduced  among  the  civil- 
ized, is  a  fact  of  great  significance.  Whatever  is  common 
to  men's  minds  in  all  stages,  must  be  deeper  down  in  thought 
than  whatever  is  peculiar  to  men's  minds  in  higher  stages; 
and  if  the  later  product  admits  of  being  reached  by  modi- 
fication and  expansion  of  the  earlier  product,  the  implica- 
tion is  that  it  has  been  so  reached.  Recognizing  this  im- 
plication, we  shall  see  how  fully  the  facts  now  to  be  con- 
templated justify  acceptance  of  it. 

§  147.  As  the  notion  of  a  ghost  grows  from  that  first 
vagueness  and  variableness  indicated  above,  into  a  definite 
and  avowed  idea,  there  naturally  arise  the  desire  and  the 
endeavour  to  propitiate  the  ghost.  Hence,  almost  as  widely 
spread  as  the  belief  in  ghosts,  may  be  looked  for  a  more  or 
less  developed  ancestor-worship.  This  we  find.  To  the  in- 
direct evidence  already  given  I  must  now  add,  in  brief  form, 
the  direct  evidence. 

Where  the  levels  of  mental  nature  and  social  progress 
are  lowest,  we  usually  find,  along  with  an  absence  of  re- 
ligious ideas  generally,  an  absence  of,  or  very  slight  develop- 
ment of,  ancestor-worship.  A  typical  case  is  that  of  the 
Juangs,  a  wild  tribe  of  Bengal,  who,  described  as  having  no 
word  for  god,  no  idea  of  a  future  state,  no  religious  cere- 
monies, are  also  said  to  "  have  no  notion  of  the  worship  of 


ANCESTOR-WORSHIP  IN  GENERAL.  287 

ancestors."  Cook,  telling  us  what  the  Fuegians  were  before 
contact  with  Europeans  had  introduced  foreign  ideas,  said 
there  were  no  appearances  of  religion  among  them;  and 
we  are  not  told  by  him  or  others  that  they  were  ancestor- 
worshippers.  So  far  as  the  scanty  evidence  may  be  trusted, 
the  like  seems  to  be  the  case  with  the  Andamanese.  And 
though  believing  in  ghosts,  the  Australians  and  Tasmanians 
show  us  but  little  persistence  in  ghost-propitiation.  Among 
the  Veddahs,  indeed,  though  extremely  low,  an  active  if 
simple  ancestor-worship  prevails;  but  here,  contact  with  the 
more  advanced  Cingalese  has  probably  been  a  factor. 

When,  however,  instead  of  wandering  groups  who  con- 
tinually leave  far  behind  the  places  where  their  members  lie 
buried,  we  come  to  settled  groups  whose  burial-places  are  in 
their  midst,  and  among  whom  development  of  funeral  rites 
is  thus  made  possible,  we  find  that  continued  propitiation  of 
dead  relatives  becomes  an  established  practice.  All  varieties 
of  men  show  us  this.  Taking  first  the  Negrito 

races,  we  read  that  "  with  the  Fijians,  as  soon  as  beloved 
parents  expire,  they  take  their  place  amongst  the  family 
gods.  Bures,  or  temples,  are  erected  to  their  memory."  Of 
the  Tannese,  we  learn  that  "  their  general  name  for  gods 
seems  to  be  aremha;  that  means  a  dead  man."  And  the  like 
is  told  us  of  other  New  Caledonian  peoples.  With 

the  Malayo-Polynesians  it  is  the  same ;  save  that  with  sim- 
ple ancestor-worship  there  usually  coexists  a  more  developed 
worship  of  remoter  ancestors,  who  have  become  deities. 
Sacrificing  to  their  gods,  the  Tahitians  also  sacrifice  to  the 
spirits  of  departed  chiefs  and  kindred.  Similar  statements 
are  made  respecting  the  Sandwich  Islanders,  the  Samoans, 
the  Malagasy,  and  the  Sumatrans;  of  which  last  people 
Marsden  says,  that  though  "  they  neither  worship  god, 
devil,  nor  idol,"  yet  they  "  venerate,  almost  to  the  point  of 
worshipping,  the  tombs  and  manes  of  their  deceased  ances- 
tors." The  like  holds  in  Africa.  The  people  of 


288  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Angola  "  are  constantly  deprecating  the  wrath  of  departed 
souls;  "  and  the  Bambiri  "  pray  to  departed  chiefs  and 
relatives."  So  by  the  Kaffirs  the  spirits  of  the  dead 
"  are  elevated  in  fact  to  the  rank  of  deities."  And  parallel 
accounts  are  given  of  the  Balonda,  the  Wanika,  the  Congo- 
ese.  Quite  different  though  they  are  in  type,  the 

lower  Asiatic  races  yield  us  allied  illustrations.  Of  the 
Bhils,  of  the  Bghais,  of  the  Karens,  of  the  Khonds,  we  find 
ancestor- worship  alleged.  The  Santals'  religion  "  is  based 
upon  the  family,"  and  "  in  addition  to  the  family-god,  each 
household  worships  the  ghosts  of  its  ancestors."  And  were 
there  any  doubt  about  the  origin  of  the  family-god,  it  would 
be  removed  by  Macpherson's  statement  respecting  the 
Khonds — "  The  more  distinguished  fathers  of  the  tribe,  of 
its  branches,  or  of  its  sub-divisions,  are  all  remembered  by 
the  priests,  their  sanctity  growing  with  the  remoteness  of 
the  period  of  their  deaths."  Of  Northern  Asiatics,  the 
Kirghiz  and  the  Ostyaks  yield  further  examples;  and  the 
Turkomans  were  lately  instanced  as  showing  how  this  wor- 
ship of  the  dead  survives  along  with  a  nominal  monothe- 
ism. Then,  crossing  over  into  America,  the  like 
phenomena  are  found  from  the  extreme  North  to  the  utter- 
most South — from  the  Esquimaux  to  the  Patagonians: 
reaching,  as  we  have  seen,  very  elaborate  developments 
among  the  ancient  civilized  races. 

How  ancestor-worship  prevailed,  and  was  greatly  elab- 
orated, among  the  people  who,  in  the  Mle  valley,  first  car- 
ried civilization  to  a  high  stage,  has  been  already  shown. 
How  in  the  far  East,  another  vast  society  which  had  reached 
considerable  heights  of  culture  while  Europe  was  covered 
by  barbarians,  has  practised,  and  still  practises,  ancestor- 
worship,  scarcely  needs  saying.  And  that  it  has  all  along 
characterized  the  Hindu  civilization  is  also  a  fact,  though  a 
fact  less  familiar.  With  the  highly-developed  religious  sys- 
tems of  India,  there  coexists  a  daily  re-genesis  of  deities  from 
dead  men.  Sir  A.  C.  Lyall  says: — 


ANCESTOR-WORSHIP  IN  GENERAL.  £89 

"  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  trace  back  the  origin  of  the  best- 
known  minor  provincial  deities,  they  are  usually  men  of  past  genera- 
tions who  have  earned  special  promotion  and  brevet  rank  among  dis- 
embodied ghosts  by  some  peculiar  acts  or  accidents  of  their  lives  or 
deaths.  .  .  .  The  Bunjaras,  a  tribe  much  addicted  to  highway  rob- 
*  bery,  worship  a  famous  bandit.  .  .  .  M.  Raymond,  the  French  com- 
mander, who  died  at  Hyderabad,  has  been  there  canonized  after  a 
fashion.  ...  Of  the  numerous  local  gods  known  to  have  been  living 
men,  by  far  the  greater  proportion  derive  from  the  ordinary  canoniza- 
tion of  holy  personages.  .  .  .  The  number  of  shrines  thus  raised  in 
Berar  alone  to  these  anchorites  and  persons  deceased  in  the  odour  of 
sanctity  is  large,  and  it  is  constantly  increasing.  Some  of  them  have 
already  attained  the  rank  of  temples." 

And  now  having  observed  the  natural  genesis  of  ances- 
tor-worship, its  wide  diffusion  over  the  world,  and  its  per- 
sistence among  advanced  races  side  by  side  with  more  de- 
veloped forms  of  worship,  let  us  turn  from  its  external  aspect 
to  its  internal  aspect.  Let  us,  so  far  as  we  can,  contemplate 
it  from  the  stand-point  of  those  who  practise  it.  Fortu- 
nately, two  examples,  one  of  its  less-developed  form  and  one 
of  its  more-developed  form,  are  exhibited  to  us  in  the  words 
of  ancestor-worshippers  themselves. 

§  148.  Our  old  acquaintances  the  Amazulu,  whose  ideas 
have  been  taken  down  from  their  own  lips,  supply  the  first. 
Here  are  the  slightly-varying,  but  similar,  statements  of 
different  witnesses: — 

"The  ancients  said  that  it  was  Unkulunkulu  who  gave  origin  to 
men,  and  everything  besides,  both  cattle  and  wild  animals." 

"The  sun  and  moon  we  referred  to  Unkulunkulu,  together  with 
the  things  of  this  world ;  and  yonder  heaven  we  referred  to  Unku- 
lunkulu." 

"  When  black  men  say  Unkulunkulu,  or  Uthlanga,*  or  the  Crea- 
tor, they  mean  one  and  the  same  thing." 

*  Bp.  CaUaway  tells  ua  that  "  UtMangi  is  a  reed,  strictly  speaking,  one 
which  is  capable  of '  stooling,'  throwing  out  offsets ; "  and  he  thinks  that  it 
comes  by  virtue  of  this  metaphor  "  to  mean  a  source  of  being."  We  shall 
hereafter  find  reason  for  thinking  that  the  tradition  originates  in  no  such  far- 
fetched metaphor ;  but  in  a  much  simpler  way. 


290  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

"It  is  said,  Unkulunkulu  came  into  being,  and  begat  men;  he 
gave  them  being;  he  begat  them." 

"He  begat  the  ancients  of  long  ago;  they  died  and  left  their 
children ;  they  begat  others,  their  sons,  they  died ;  they  begat  others ; 
thus  we  at  length  have  heard  about  Unkulunkulu." 

"Unkulunkulu  is  no  longer  known.  It  is  he  who  was  the  first 
man;  he  broke  off  in  the  beginning." 

"Unkulunkulu  told  men — saying,  'I,  too,  sprang  from  a  bed  of 
reeds.' " 

"  Unkulunkulu  was  a  black  man,  for  we  see  that  all  the  people 
from  whom  we  sprang  are  black,  and  their  hair  is  black." 

After  noting  that  here,  and  in  other  passages  not  quoted, 
there  are  inconsistencies  (as  that  sometimes  a  reed  and  some- 
times a  bed  of  reeds  is  said  to  be  the  origin  of  Unkulunkulu) ; 
and  after  noting  that  variations  of  this  primitive  creed  have 
arisen  since  European  immigration,  as  is  shown  by  one  of  the 
statements  that  "  there  were  at  first  two  women  in  a  bed  of 
reeds;  one  gave  birth  to  a  white  man,  and  one  to  a  black 
man ;  "  let  us  go  on  to  note  the  meaning  of  Unkulunkulu. 
This,  Bp.  Callaway  tells  us,  "  expresses  antiquity,  age,  lit- 
erally the  old-old  one,  as  we  use  great,  in  great-great-grand- 
father." So  that,  briefly  stated,  the  belief  is  that  from  a 
reed  or  bed  of  reeds,  came  the  remotest  ancestor,  who  origi- 
nated all  other  things.  By  the  Amazulu,  however,  this  re- 
motest ancestor  is  but  nominally  recognized.  Propitiation 
is  limited  to  their  nearer  ancestors  who  are  secondary  Un- 
kulunkulus,  called,  in  some  cases,  Onkulunkulus.  The  ideas 
concerning,  and  the  behaviour  towards,  the  remoter  and 
nearer  ancestors,  may  be  gathered  from  the  following  ex- 
tracts : — 

"They  say  that  Unkulunkulu,  who  sprang  from  the  bed  of  reeds, 
is  dead." 

"By  that  it  began  to  be  evident  that  Unkulunkulu  had  no  longer 
a  son  who  could  worship  him ;  .  .  .  the  praise-giving  names  of  Un- 
kulunkulu are  lost." 

"All  nations  [i.e.,  tribes]  have  their  own  Unkulunkulu.  Each 
has  its  own." 

"Utshange  is  the  praise-giving  name  of  our  house;  he  was  the 
first  man  of  our  family, — our  Unkulunkulu,  who  founded  our  house." 


ANCESTOR-WORSHIP  IN  GENERAL.  291 

"We  worshipped  those  whom  we  had  seen  with  our  eyes,  their 
death  and  their  life  amongst  us." 

"All  we  know  is  this,  the  young  and  the  old  die,  and  the  shade 
departs.  The  Unkulunkulu  of  us  black  men  is  that  one  to  whom 
we  pray  for  our  cattle,  and  worship,  saying,  '  Father  ! '  We  say, 
'  Udhlamini  ?  Uhhadebe  !  Umutimkulu  !  Uthlomo !  Let  me  obtain 
what  I  wish,  Lord  !  Let  me  not  die,  but  live,  and  walk  long  on  the 
earth.'  Old  people  see  him  at  night  in  their  dreams." 

Here,  then,  we  see  ancestor-worship  in  but  a  slightly- 
developed  form — an  unhistoric  ancestor-worship.  There 
have  arisen  no  personages  dominant  enough  to  retain  their 
distinct  individualities  through  many  generations,  and  to 
subordinate  the  minor  traditional  individualities. 

§  149.  Peoples  who  are  more  settled  and  further  ad- 
vanced show  us  a  progress.  Along  with  worship  of  recent 
and  local  ancestors,  there  goes  worship  of  ancestors  who  died 
at  earlier  dates,  and  who,  remembered  by  their  power,  have 
acquired  in  the  general  mind  a  supremacy.  This  truth  ought 
to  need  but  little  illustration,  for  the  habits  of  ancient  races 
make  it  familiar.  As  Mr.  Grote  says — 

"In  the  retrospective  faith  of  a  Greek,  the  ideas  of  worship  and 
ancestry  coalesced :  every  association  of  men,  large  or  small,  in  whom 
there  existed  a  feeling  of  present  union,  traced  back  that  union  to 
some  common  initial  progenitor,  and  that  progenitor,  again,  was 
either  the  common  god  whom  they  worshipped,  or  some  semi-divine 
being  closely  allied  to  him." 

This  stage  of  development  in  which,  along  with  worship 
of  ancestry  traced  back  a  certain  number  of  generations, 
there  went  a  more  widely-diffused  worship  of  some  to  whom 
the  relationships  were  lost  in  the  far  past,  we  find  paralleled 
in  other  places ;  as,  for  example,  in  Peru.  Sun-worship  and 
Ynca-worship  were  there  associated  with  an  active  worship 
of  forefathers.  Avendano,  repeating  the  affirmative  an- 
swers to  his  questions,  says: — 

"  Each  of  your  ancestors  .  .  .  worshipped  the  marcayoct,  who  is 
the  founder  or  senior  of  the  village,  from  whom  you  are  sprung.  He 


292  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

was  not  worshipped  by  the  Indians  of  any  other  village,  for  they  had 
another  marcayocc. 

Chiefly,  however,  let  us  remark  that  these  settled  races  of 
America  exhibited  in  their  professed  creeds  the  transforma- 
tion of  their  remotest  progenitors  into  deities.  By  the  Ama- 
zulu,  the  traditional  old-old-one,  though  regarded  as  having 
given  origin  to  them  and  all  other  things,  is  not  worshipped : 
he  is  finally  dead,  and  his  sons,  who  once  worshipped  him, 
are  finally  dead;  and  the  worship  is  monopolized  by  those 
later  descendants  who  are  remembered  as  founders  of  tribes. 
But  among  these  more  advanced  peoples  of  America,  the 
most  ancient  men,  considered  as  still  living  elsewhere,  had 
a  worship  which  subordinated  the  worship  of  immediate  an- 
cestors. This  is  well  brought  out  by  Friar  Bobadilla's  cross- 
examination  of  some  Nicaraguans.  Here  are  a  few  of  the 
questions  and  answers: — 

"Friar.  Do  you  know  who  made  a  heaven  and  earth  ? 

"Indian.  My  parents  told  me  when  I  was  a  child  that  it  was 
Tamagostat  and  Qipattonal.  .  .  . 

"Fr.  Where  are  they  ? 

" Ind.  I  do  not  know;  but  they  are  our  great  gods  whom  we  call 
teotes.  .  .  . 

"  Fr.  By  whom  are  the  teotes  served  ? 

"Ind.  I  have  heard  old  men  say  that  there  are  people  who  serve 
them,  and  that  the  Indians  who  die  in  their  houses  go  under  the 
earth,  and  that  those  who  die  in  battles  go  to  serve  the  teotes. 

"  Fr.  Which  is  better — to  go  under  the  earth  or  to  serve  the 
teotes? 

"Ind.  It  is  better  to  go  to  serve  the  teotes,  for  they  go  there  to 
their  fathers. 

"  Fr.  But  if  their  fathers  have  died  in  bed,  how  can  they  see 
them  there  ? 

"  Ind.  Our  fathers  are  these  teotes.'1'1 

Here  are  passages  from  the  examination  of  another  witness 
— the  cazique  Avagoaltegoan : — 

"  Fr.  Who  created  heaven  and  earth,  and  the  stars,  and  the  moon, 
and  man,  and  all  the  rest  ? 

"Ind.  Tamagostat  and  Qipattonal;  the  former  is  a  man,  and  the 
latter  a  woman. 


ANCESTOR-WORSHIP  IN  GENERAL.  293 

"  Fr.  Who  created  that  man  and  that  woman  ? 

" Ind.  No  one;  on  the  contrary,  all  men  and  women  descend 
from  them.  .  .  . 

"  Fr.  Are  those  gods  whom  you  name  made  of  flesh  or  wood,  or 
of  what  other  material  ? 

' '  Ind.  They  are  of  flesh,  and  are  man  and  woman,  and  youths, 
and  are  always  the  same ;  and  they  are  of  brownish  colour,  like  us 
Indians;  and  they  walked  over  the  earth  dressed,  and  ate  what  the 
Indians  ate.  .  .  . 

"  Fr.  What  do  they  live  on  now  ? 

"  Ind.  They  eat  what  the  Indians  eat;  for  the  plant  (maize  ?)  and 
all  other  eatables  came  from  where  the  teotes  dwell." 
Another  witness,  Tacoteyda,  a  priest,  apparently  sixty  years 
of  age,  who  declined  to  become  a  Christian,  gave  a  like  ac- 
count of  these  ancestor-gods,  answering  questions  thus: — 

' '  Fr.  Are  they  men  ? 

"Ind.  They  are  men. 

"  Fr.  How  do  you  know  ? 

"Ind.  My  ancestors  told  me. 

"Fr.  Where  are  those  gods  of  yours  ? 

"Ind.  My  ancestors  told  me  that  they  are  where  the  sun  rises.  .  .  . 

"  Fr.  Did  they  come  to  ...  your  shrines  to  speak  to  you  ? 

"Ind.  Our  ancestors  said  that  long  ago  they  used  to  come  and 
speak  with  them,  but  now  they  come  no  more. 

"Fr.  Do  those  teotes  eat  ? 

"Ind.  I  have  heard  my  ancestors  say  that  they  eat  the  blood  and 
hearts  of  men,  and  some  birds;  and  we  give  them  candlewood,  in- 
cense and  resin;  that  is  what  they  eat." 

From  other  like  testimonies  given  by  the  thirteen  caziques, 
and  chiefs,  and  priests,  I  will  add  only  the  following: — 

"  Fr.  Who  sends  you  rain  and  all  things  ? " 

"Ind.  The  water  is  sent  us  by  Quiateot,  who  is  a  man,  and  has 
father  and  mother,  and  the  father  is  called  Omeyateite,  and  the 
mother,  Oraeyatecigoat ;  and  those  dwell  .  .  .  where  the  sun  rises 
in  heaven." 

Pages  might  be  filled  by  evidence  of  like  meaning. 

What  has  been  given  shows,  like  the  rest,  that  the  remotest 

remembered  ancestors  have  become  divinities,  remaining 

human  in  physical  and  mental  attributes,  and  differing  only 

20 


294  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

in  power;  that  being  recognized  in  tradition  as  the  beget- 
ters, or  causers,  of  existing  men,  they,  as  the  only  known 
causers  of  anything,  come  to  be  tacitly  regarded  as  the 
causers  of  other  things ;  *  and  that  they  reside  in  the  region 
whence  the  race  came,  which  is  the  other  world  travelled 
to  by  the  dead.  The  statements  of  these  peoples  directly 
imply  that  transformation  of  ancestors  into  deities,  which 
we  saw  was  directly  implied  by  the  growth  of  funeral  rites 
into  worship  of  the  dead,  and  eventually  into  religious  wor- 
ship. 

§  150.  It  is  said,  however,  that  ancestor-worship  is  pe- 
culiar to  the  inferior  races.  I  have  seen  implied,  I  have 
heard  in  conversation,  and  I  have  now  before  me  in  print, 
the  statement  that  "  no  Indo-European  or  Semitic  nation, 
so  far  as  we  know,  seems  to  have  made  a  religion  of  wor- 
ship of  the  dead."  And  the  suggested  conclusion  is  that 
these  superior  races,  who  in  their  earliest  recorded  times 
had  higher  forms  of  worship,  were  not  even  in  their  still 
earlier  times,  ancestor-worshippers. 

That  those  who  have  another  theory  to  uphold  should 
thus  interpret  the  evidence,  is  not  unnatural.  Every  hy- 
pothesis tends  to  assimilate  facts  yielding  it  support  and  to 
reject  adverse  facts.  But  that  adherents  of  the  Evolution- 
doctrine  should  admit  a  distinction  so  profound  between 
the  minds  of  different  human  races,  is  surprising.  Those 
who  believe  in  creation  by  manufacture,  may  consistently 

*  While  correcting  this  chapter,  I  have  met  with  proof  that  the  inade- 
quately-differentiated ideas  and  words  of  primitive  peoples,  lead  to  confusions 
of  this  kind.  In  his  Sanskrit  Texts,  Dr.  Muir,  showing  the  conceptions  which 
the  ancient  Rishis  had  of  the  Vedic  hymns  as  composed  by  themselves,  groups 
together  the  various  cases  in  which  a  word  implying  this  composition  is  used. 
The  several  words  thus  used  are  "  making,"  "  fabricating,"  "  begetting,  or 
generating."  Now  if  in  such  a  language  as  Sanscrit,  these  words  are  so  im- 
perfectly specialized  as  to  be  indiscriminately  applied  to  the  same  act,  we  may 
well  understand  how  incapable  ruder  languages  must  be  of  expressing  a  dis» 
tinction  between  begetting,  making,  and  creating. 


ANCESTOR-WORSHIP  IN  GENERAL.  295 

hold  that  Aryans  and  Semites  were  supernaturally  endowed 
with  higher  conceptions  than  Turanians.  If  species  of  ani- 
mals were  separately  made  with  fundamental  differences, 
varieties  of  men  may  have  been  so  too.  But  to  assert  that 
the  human  type  has  been  evolved  from  lower  types,  and  then 
to  deny  that  the  superior  human  races  have  been  evolved, 
mentally  as  well  as  physically,  from  the  inferior,  and  must 
once  have  had  those  general  conceptions  which  the  inferior 
still  have,  is  a  marvellous  inconsistency.  Even  in  the  ab- 
sence of  evidence  it  would  be  startling ;  and  in  the  presence 
of  contrary  evidence  it  is  extremely  startling. 

If  in  their  more  advanced  stages  the  leading  divisions  of 
the  Aryans  habitually,  while  worshipping  their  greater 
deities,  also  worshipped  ancestors,  who,  according  to  their 
remoteness,  were  regarded  as  divine,  semi-divine,  and 
human;  must  we  really  infer  that  in  the  course  of  their 
progress  they  adopted  this  ancestor-worship  from  inferior 
races?  On  finding  that  by  the  Greeks,  heroes  from  whom 
the  people  of  each  locality  traced  their  descent,  were  made 
objects  of  religious  rites,  just  as  by  aboriginal  Peruvians 
and  others ;  shall  we  say  that  while  becoming  civilized  they 
grafted  on  their  higher  creed  this  lower  creed?  When  we 
recall  the  facts  that  besides  sacrificing  to  the  ghosts  of  their 
recent  dead,  the  Romans  sacrificed  to  the  ghosts  of  their 
ancient  dead,  who  were  the  founders  of  their  families,  just 
as  the  Amazulu  do  at  the  present  time;  are  we  to  infer  that 
while  Asiatic  nomads  they  had  no  such  worship,  but  that, 
then  worshipping  only  certain  personalized  powers  of  Na- 
ture, they  adopted  the  religion  of  less  cultured  peoples  as 
they  themselves  became  more  cultured  ?  Such  assumptions 
would  be  inadmissible,  even  had  we  no  indications  of  the 
original  Aryan  beliefs ;  and  are  still  more  inadmissible  now 
that  we  know  what  the  original  Aryan  beliefs  were.  As  ex- 
pressed in  their  sacred  writings,  they  were  essentially  the 
same  as  those  of  existing  barbarians.  "  The  heroic  Indra, 
who  delights  in  praise,"  and  to  whom  the  hymn  is  "chaunted 


296  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

at  the  sacrifice,"  hoping  to  impel  "  the  well-accoutred,  the 
loud-thundering,  to  succour  us,"  is  but  the  ancestor  consider- 
ably expanded;  and  from  the  mouth  of  the  Zulu  chief 
about  to  sacrifice,  would  equally  well  come  the  words  of 
the  Aryan  rishi — "  friends  drive  hither  the  milch  cow  with 
a  new  hymn."  If  the  human  derivation  of  Indra  needs 
further  evidence,  we  have  it  in  the  statement  concerning 
an  intoxicating  beverage  made  from  the  sacred  plant- — 
"  the  soma  exhilarates  not  Indra  unless  it  be  poured  out;  " 
which  is  exactly  the  belief  of  an  African  respecting  the 
libation  of  beer  for  an  ancestral  ghost.  From  the  Rig- 
Veda  we  learn  that  men  who  by  their  virtues  gained  admis- 
sion to  heaven,  attained  an  existence  like  that  of  deities; 
and  these  "  ancient  pious  sages,"  who  "  shared  in  the  en- 
joyments of  the  gods,"  were  implored  to  be  "  propitious  " 
and  to  protect.  Still  more  specific  are  passages  from  the 
laws  of  Menu.  We  have  the  statement  that  the  manes  eat 
of  the  funeral  meal;  we  have  the  direction  to  the  head  of 
the  family  to  make  a  daily  offering  to  get  the  good  will  of 
the  manes,  and  also  a  monthly  offering.  And  the  ideas  of 
savages,  whose  superior  gods  are  the  more  powerful  ghosts, 
are  undeniably  paralleled  in  a  further  injunction.  That  an 
oblation  to  the  manes  may  be  obtained  by  them,  the  master 
of  the  house  must  commence  with  an  oblation  to  the  gods, 
so  that  the  gods  may  not  appropriate  what  is  intended  for 
the  manes ! 

Do,  then,  the  Semitic  races  furnish  a  solitary  exception  ? 
Strong  evidence  must  be  assigned  before  it  can  be  admitted 
that  they  do;  and  no  such  strong  evidence  is  forthcoming. 
Contrariwise,  what  positive  facts  we  gather  have  opposite 
implications.  Remembering  that  nomadic  habits  are  un- 
favourable to  evolution  of  the  ghost-theory,  it  is  manifest 
that  if  the  ancient  Hebrews,  like  some  existing  peoples,  had 
not  reached  the  conception  of  a  permanently-existing  ghost, 
they  would,  of  course,  have  no  established  ancestor-worship : 
not  because  it  was  beneath  them,  but  because  the  conditions 


ANCESTOR-WORSHIP  IN  GENERAL.  297 

for  display  of  it  were  not  fulfilled.  Further,  we  must  note 
that  the  silence  of  their  legends  is  but  a  negative  fact,  which 
may  be  as  misleading  as  negative  facts  often  are ;  and  beyond 
the  general  reason  we  have  special  reasons  for  suspecting 
this  illusiveness.  For  among  other  peoples  we  find  tradi- 
tions that  give  no  accounts  of  practices  which  not  only  ex- 
isted but  were  dominant :  the  cause  being  that  extraordinary 
occurrences  only  are  narrated,  and  not  ordinary  occur- 
rences. Interesting  personal  adventures  form  their  subject- 
matter  and  not  social  habits,  which  are  at  best  traceable  by 
implication,  and  in  a  condensed  narrative  may  leave  no 
traces  at  all.  Thus,  to  take  a  case,  the  legends  of  the  Poly- 
nesians say  scarcely  more  than  the  Bible  does  about  the  wor- 
ship of  ancestors;  and  yet  ancestor-worship  was  in  full 
activity  among  them.  Again,  it  should  be  remem- 

bered that  the  sacred  books  of  a  religion  nominally  pro- 
fessed, may  give  very  untrue  ideas  concerning  the  actual 
beliefs  of  its  professors.  Two  facts  already  named  incident- 
ally show  this.  The  Turkomans  are  rigid  Mahometans ;  and 
yet,  making  pilgrimages  to  the  tombs  of  canonized  robbers, 
they  pray  to  their  ghosts.  Similarly,  the  acceptance  of  Ma- 
hometanism  does  not  prevent  the  Bedouins  from  sacrificing 
at  the  graves  of  their  forefathers.  In  both  cases  there  is 
habitually  done  that  which  we  should  infer  could  not  be 
done,  if  we  drew  our  inferences  from  the  Koran.  When, 
thus  warned,  we  turn  to  the  denunciations  of  the  Hebrew 
prophets,  directed  against  forms  of  worship  which  the  He- 
brews had  in  common  with  other  races,  we  are  reminded 
that  the  religion  embodied  in  the  Bible  differed  greatly 
from  the  popular  religion.  Besides  the  idolatry  persisted 
in  notwithstanding  reprobation,  there  was  tree-worship; 
and  the  ceremonials,  equally  low  with  those  of  semi-civilized 
peoples  in  general,  included  prostitution  in  temples.  More- 
over, the  association  of  mourning  dresses  with  fasting,  as 
well  as  the  law  against  self-bleeding  and  cutting-off  the  hair 
for  the  dead,  imply  primitive  funeral  rites  like  those  of 


298  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ancestor-worshippers  in  general.  Nor  is  this  all.  On  mak- 
ing an  offering  of  first-fruits  to  Jahveh,  the  sacrificer  is 
required  to  say  that  he  has  not  "  given  ought  thereof  for  the 
dead."  Hence,  the  conclusion  must  be  that  ancestor-wor- 
ship had  developed  as  far  as  nomadic  habits  allowed,  before 
it  was  repressed  by  a  higher  worship.  But  be  there 

or  be  there  not  adequate  reason  for  ascribing  a  partially- 
developed  ancestor-worship  to  the  Hebrews,  there  is  evidence 
that  it  has  existed,  and  continues  to  exist,  among  other  Sem- 
itic peoples.  In  a  paper  entitled  "  Le  culte  des  ancetres 
divinise's  dans  PYemen,"  contained  in  the  Com/pies  rendus 
of  the  French  Academy,  M.  Lenormant,  after  commenting 
on  some  inscriptions,  says: — 

"Here,  then,  we  have  twice  repeated  a  whole  series  of  human 
persons,  decidedly  deceased  ancestors  or  relations  of  the  author  of 
the  dedication.  Their  names  are  accompanied  with  the  titles  they 
bore  during  lifetime.  They  are  invoked  by  their  descendants  at  the 
same  time,  in  the  same  degree  (rank),  with  the  same  intention,  as  the 
gods  [mentioned  in  the  same  formula]:  being,  in  short,  completely 
placed  on  a  par  with  the  inhabitants  of  heaven.  .  .  .  They  incon- 
testably  are  deified  persons,  objects  of  a  family  worship,  and  gods  or 
genii  in  the  belief  of  the  people  of  their  race." 
Kindred  evidence  is  furnished  by  the  following  passage 
from  the  Essai  sur  Vhistoire  des  Arabes  of  M.  Caussin  de 
Perceval.  Speaking  of  the  time  of  Mahomet,  he  says  the 
greatest  part  of  the  nation  \i.  <?.,  all  who  were  not  either  Jews 
or  Christians]  were  pagans. 

"They  had  a  great  number  of  deities;  each  tribe  and  nearly  each 
family  had  one  which  they  held  in  special  honour.  They  admitted, 
however,  the  existence  of  a  Supreme  God  (Allah),  with  whom  the 
other  deities  were  powerful  intercessors.  .  .  .  Some  believed  that  at 
death  all  was  at  an  end ;  others  believed  in  a  resurrection  and  an- 
other life." 

Several  significant  implications  occur  here.  The  fact 
last  named  reminds  us  of  the  ancient  Hebrew  belief,  or  no- 
belief.  Further,  this  difference  of  opinion  among  Arabs, 
some  of  whom  are  stationary  and  some  wandering,  harmo- 


ANCESTOR-WORSHIP  IN  GENERAL.  299 

nizes  with  the  suggestion  above  made,  that  nomadic  habits 
are  less  favourable  than  the  habits  of  settled  life  to  a  per- 
sistent ghost-propitiation  with  all  its  sequences.  Respecting 
the  idea  of  a  supreme  deity,  accompanying  ancestor-wor- 
ship among  them,  it  is  manifest  that  wandering  hordes,  com- 
ing in  frequent  contact  with  relatively-civilized  peoples, 
would  inevitably  acquire  it  from  them;  as,  from  their  Eu- 
ropean visitors,  it  is  now  acquired  by  savages.  But  that  the 
belief  so  acquired  is  vague  and  superficial,  is  shown  us  by 
the  existing  Bedouins;  whose  Mahometanism,  according  to 
Mr.  Palgrave,  is  of  the  most  shadowy  kind,  while  the  reality 
of  their  ancestor-worship  is  proved  by  the  sacrifices  they 
"  devoutly  "  make  at  tombs.  No  more,  then,  of  Semites 
than  of  Aryans  can  ancestor-worship  be  denied. 

§  151.  Mythologists,  however,  say  that  these  observ- 
ances have  a  moral  rather  than  a  religious  character.  Let 
us  contemplate  this  proposed  distinction  under  its  concrete 
aspects. 

When  Mcaraguans  are  described  as  having  adored  the 
teotes,  said  by  them  to  be  the  ancient  men  from  whom  they 
descended,  we  may  accept  the  fact  as  it  stands,  for  these 
people  were  of  inferior  race ;  but  when,  in  the  Institutes  of 
Menu,  we  read  that  "  the  sons  of  Marfchi  and  of  all  the 
other  Rishis  [ancient  sages],  who  wrere  the  offspring  of 
Menu,  son  of  Brahm£,  are  called  the  companies  of  Pitris, 
or  forefathers,"  we  must  understand  the  fatherhood  not 
literally  but  metaphorically :  these  people  were  Aryans.  If 
one  of  the  Amazulu,  sacrificing  a  bullock,  begins  by  inviting 
"  the  first  Itongo  who  is  known  "  (oldest  ancestral  ghost), 
or  in  other  cases  is  careful  to  name  first  a  ghost  who  is  sup- 
posed to  be  angry  because  he  has  not  been  propitiated,  the 
fact  exhibits  the  crude  ideas  of  a  race  incapable  of  high 
civilization.  If,  however,  the  Institutes  of  Menu  say — 
"  Let  an  offering  to  the  gods  be  made  at  the  beginning  and 
end  of  the  srdddha:  it  must  not  begin  and  end  with  an  offer- 


300  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ing  to  ancestors;  for  he  who  begins  and  ends  it  with  an 
oblation  to  the  Pitris,  quickly  perishes  with  his  progeny;  " 
we  must,  seeing  the  proved  capacities  of  the  Aryan  mind, 
distinguish  between  the  religious  sentiment  prompting  one 
part  of  the  sacrifice,  and  the  moral  sentiment  prompting 
the  other.  Negroes  who,  when  suffering,  go  to  the  woods 
and  cry  for  help  to  the  spirits  of  dead  relatives,  show  by 
these  acts  the  grovelling  nature  of  their  race ;  and  we  must 
not  confound  with  their  low  conceptions  those  high  concep- 
tions of  the  Iranians  implied  in  the  Khorda  Avesta,  where 
the  souls  of  forefathers  are  called  upon  in  prayers:  these 
express  filial  feeling  only.  Obviously,  the  frequent  sacri- 
fices by  which  the  ancient  Egyptians  honoured  their  dead, 
namely,  three  "  festivals  of  the  seasons,"  twelve  "  festivals 
of  the  month,"  and  twelve  "  festivals  of  the  half-month," 
formed  part  of  their  religion ;  for  were  they  not  Turanians 
and  ancestor-worshippers?  Quite  otherwise,  however,  must 
we  interpret  the  offerings  made  by  the  Romans  to  their 
Lares,  on  the  calends,  nones,  and  ides  of  every  month;  for 
these  were  merely  marks  of  proper  respect  to  forefathers. 
The  act  of  a  savage  who  at  each  meal  throws  aside  some 
food  and  drink  for  the  spirits  of  the  dead,  shows  a  wish  to 
propitiate  which  was  not  felt  by  the  Roman  who  offered  a 
portion  of  each  meal  to  his  Lares.  And  if,  on  going  abroad, 
the  Roman  prayed  to  his  Lares  for  a  happy  return,  he  did  not 
ascribe  to  them  a  power  such  as  is  ascribed  to  ghosts  of  rela- 
tives by  the  Indian  or  Veddah  who  asks  their  aid  when  he 
goes  hunting.  Still  less  must  we  suppose  any  similarity 
between  the  ideas  of  the  sanguinary  Mexicans,  Peruvians, 
Chibchas,  Dahomans,  Ashantis,  and  others  who  immolate 
victims  at  funerals,  and  the  ideas  of  those  early  Romans 
who  offered  up  human  sacrifices  at  tombs.  Considering  that 
the  Romans  belonged  to  one  of  the  noble  types  of  man,  we 
must  conclude  that  they  adopted  this  habit  from  baser  types 
around  them. 

What  shall  we  say  of  such  modes  of  interpretation?    We 


ANCESTOR-WORSHIP  IN  GENERAL.  301 

may  say  at  least  this,  that  were  he  allowed  equal  licence  in 
dealing  with  facts,  the  feeblest  dialectician  might  safely 
undertake  to  establish  any  proposition  that  could  be  named. 

§  152.  How  unwarranted  is  the  assertion  that  the  supe- 
rior races  have  not  passed  through  this  lower  cult,  will  be 
again  seen  on  remembering  that  down  to  the  present  time, 
ancestor- worship  lingers  among  the  most  civilized  of  them. 
Throughout  Europe  it  still  shows  itself,  here  feebly  and  there 
with  some  vigour,  notwithstanding  the  repressive  influence 
of  Christianity. 

Even  Protestants  yield  undeniable  traces  of  the  aborigi- 
nal ideas  and  sentiments  and  acts.  I  do  not  refer  merely  to 
the  decoration  of  graves  with  flowers,  reminding  us  of  the 
placings  of  flowers  on  graves  by  ancestor-worshipping  peo- 
ples who  also  offered  flowers  to  their  deities;  for  this  prac- 
tice, spreading  with  the  ritualistic  reaction,  may  be  consid- 
ered as  part  of  a  revived  Catholicism.  I  refer  rather  to  cer- 
tain less  obtrusive  facts.  Dead  parents  are  often  thought 
of  among  us  as  approving  or  disapproving.  They  are  figured 
in  the  minds  of  relatives  as  though  they  knew  what  was 
being  done,  and  as  likely  to  be  hurt  by  disregard  of  their 
injunctions.  Occasionally  a  portrait  is  imagined  to  look 
reproachfully  on  a  descendant  who  is  transgressing ;  and  the 
anxiety  not  to  disobey  a  dying  wish  certainly  acts  as  a  de- 
terrent. So  that,  indefinite  though  their  forms  have  be- 
come, the  aboriginal  notions  of  subordination  and  propitia- 
tion have  not  wholly  disappeared. 

It  is,  however,  among  Catholic  peoples  that  this  primi- 
tive religion  most  distinctly  shows  itself.  The  mortuary 
chapels  in  cemeteries  on  the  Continent,  are  manifestly 
homologous  with  the  elaborate  tombs  of  the  ancients.  If 
erecting  a  chapel  to  the  Virgin  is  an  act  of  worship,  then 
the  sentiment  of  worship  cannot  be  wholly  absent  if  the 
erected  chapel  is  over  a  dead  parent.  And  though  mostly 
the  prayers  in  such  chapels,  or  at  graves,  are  only  far  the 


302  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

dead,  I  am  told  by  two  French  Catholics  that  exceptionally, 
when  a  pious  parent  is  supposed  to  be  not  in  purgatory  but 
in  heaven,  there  are  prayers  to  the  dead  for  intercession. 
A  French  correspondent  questions  this;  but  he  admits  that 
men  and  women  who  have  died  in  the  odour  of  sanctity,  are 
canonized  by  popular  opinion  and  adored.  "  Ainsi,  j'ai  vu, 
en  Bretagne,  le  tombeau  d'un  pretre  tres  pieux  et  tres  char- 
itable: iletait  convert  de  couronnes;  on  s'y  rendait  en  f  oule 
leprier  de  procurer  des  guerisons,  de  veiller  sur  les  enfants," 
etc.  Accepting  only  this  last  statement  as  trustworthy,  it 
proves  that  the  primitive  religion  lingers  yet. 

Even  clearer  proof  that  it  lingers  is  yielded  by  the  still- 
extant  customs  of  feeding  the  spirits,  both  annually  and  at 
other  times.  If  we  read  of  periodic  feasts  for  the  dead 
among  extinct  nations,  or  now  among  the  existing  Chinese, 
and  regard  such  observances  as  parts  of  their  ancestor-wor- 
ship ;  and  if  we  learn  that  the  feast  of  All  Souls  and  sundry 
kindred  observances  are  continued  yet  in  various  parts  of 
Europe,  both  by  Teutons  and  Celts;  can  we  deny  that  an 
original  ancestor- worship  is  implied  by  them?  * 

*  The  following  illustrative  passage  has  been  translated  for  me  : — "  Roman 
Catholic  peasants  do  not  forget  all  the  year  round  to  care  for  the  welfare  of 
the  souls  of  their  dead.  The  crusts  of  the  table  are  collected  throughout  the 
week,  and  on  Saturday  night  are  thrown  into  the  hearth-fire ;  that  they  may 
serve  as  food  for  the  souls  during  the  following  holy  day.  Any  soup  which 
drops  on  the  table  ...  is  left  to  the  poor  souls.  When  a  woman  prepares 
the  dough,  she  casts  behind  her  a  handful  of  flour,  and  throws  a  piece  of 
dough  into  the  furnace ;  when  she  bakes  little  cakes,  she  puts  some  fat  into 
the  pan  and  the  first  cake  into  the  fire.  Wood-cutters  put  little  pieces  of 
bread  which  have  become  too  dry,  upon  the  tree  trunks :  all  for  the  poor 
souls.  .  .  .  When  the  time  of  All  Souls  is  approaching,  the  same  care  for  the 
deceased  is  shown  more  vividly.  In  every  house  a  light  is  kept  burning  all 
night ;  the  lamp  is  no  longer  filled  with  oil  but  with  fat ;  a  door,  or  at  least 
a  window,  remains  open,"  and  the  supper  is  left  on  the  table,  even  with  some 
additions  ;  "  people  go  to  bed  earlier, — all  to  let  the  dear  little  angels  enter 
without  being  disturbed.  .  .  .  Such  is  the  custom  of  the  peasants  of  the 
Tyrol,  Old  Bavaria,  Upper  Palatinate,  and  German  Bohemia." — Rochhoh, 
Deutscher  Glaube  und  Brauch,  I,  pp.  323—4. 


ANCESTOR-WORSHIP  IN  GENERAL.  303 

§  153.  See,  then,  how  fully  induction  justifies  deduc- 
tion ;  and  verifies  the  inference  suggested  in  the  last  chapter. 

Taking  the  aggregate  of  human  peoples — tribes,  socie- 
ties, nations — we  find  that  nearly  all  of  them,  if  not  literally 
all,  have  a  belief,  vague  or  distinct,  in  a  reviving  other-self 
of  the  dead  man.  Within  this  class  of  peoples  we  find  a  class 
not  quite  so  large,  by  the  members  of  which  the  other-self 
of  the  dead  man  is  supposed  to  exist  for  a  time,  or  always, 
after  death.  Xearly  as  numerous  is  the  class  of  peoples  in- 
cluded in  this,  who  show  us  ghost-propitiation  at  the  funeral, 
and  for  a  subsequent  interval.  Then  comes  the  narrower 
class  contained  in  the  last — those  more  advanced  peoples 
who,  along  with  the  belief  in  a  ghost  which  permanently 
exists,  show  us  a  persistent  ancestor-worship.  Again,  some- 
what further  restricted,  though  by  no  means  small,  we  have 
a  class  of  peoples  whose  worship  of  distinguished  ancestors 
partially  subordinates  that  of  the  undistinguished.  And 
eventually,  the  subordination  growing  more  decided,  be- 
comes marked  where  these  distinguished  ancestors  were 
leaders  of  conquering  races. 

Even  the  words  applied  in  more  advanced  societies  to 
different  orders  of  supernatural  beings,  indicate  by  their 
original  community  of  meaning,  that  this  has  been  the 
course  of  genesis.  The  fact  cited  above,  that  among  the 
Tannese  the  word  for  a  god  means  literally  a  dead  man,  is 
typical  of  facts  everywhere  found.  Ghost,  spirit,  demon — 
names  at  first  applied  to  the  other-self  without  distinctions 
of  character — come  to  be  differently  applied  as  ascribed  dif- 
ferences of  character  arise :  the  shade  of  an  enemy  becomes 
a  devil,  and  a  friendly  shade  becomes  a  divinity.  Where 
the  conceptions  have  not  developed  far,  there  are  no  differ- 
entiated  titles,  and  the  distinctions  made  by  us  cannot  be 
expressed.  The  early  Spanish  missionaries  in  America  were 
inconvenienced  by  finding  that  the  only  native  word  they 
could  use  for  God  also  meant  devil.  In  Greek,  Salfjuav  and 
0eo9  are  interchangeable.  By  ^schylus,  Agamemnon's 


304:  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

children  are  represented  as  appealing  to  their  father's  ghost 
as  to  a  god.  So,  too,  with  the  Romans.  Besides  the  un- 
specialized  use  of  daemon,  which  means  an  angel  or  genius, 
good  or  bad,  we  find  the  unspecialized  use  of  deus  for  god 
and  ghost.  On  tombs  the  manes  were  called  gods;  and  a 
law  directs  that  "  the  rights  of  the  manes-gods  are  to  be 
kept  sacred."  Similarly  with  the  Hebrews.  Isaiah,  repre- 
senting himself  as  commanded  to  reject  it,  quotes  a  current 
belief  implying  such  identification: — "  And  when  they  say 
unto  you,  '  Consult  the  ghost-seers  and  the  wizards,  that 
chirp  and  that  mutter!  Should  not  people  consult  their 
gods,  even  the  dead  on  behalf  of  the  living  ? '  When  Saul 
goes  to  question  the  ghost  of  Samuel,  the  expression  of  the 
enchantress  is — "  I  saw  gods  [elohim]  ascending  out  of  the 
earth:  "  god  and  ghost  being  thus  used  as  equivalents.* 
Even  in  our  own  day  the  kinship  is  traceable.  The  state- 
ment that  God  is  a  spirit,  shows  the  application  of  a  term 
which,  otherwise  applied,  signifies  a  human  soul.  Only  by 
its  qualifying  epithet  is  the  meaning  of  Holy  Ghost  distin- 
guished from  the  meaning  of  ghost  in  general.  A  divine 
being  is  still  denoted  by  words  that  originally  meant  the 
breath  which,  deserting  a  man's  body  at  death,  was  supposed 
to  constitute  the  surviving  part. 

Do  not  these  various  evidences  warrant  the  suspicion 
that  from  the  ghost,  once  uniformly  conceived,  have  arisen 
the  variously-conceived  supernatural  beings?  We  may 
infer,  a  priori,  that  in  conformity  with  the  law  of  Evolution, 

*  Concerning  the  first  of  these  passages,  which  is  given  as  rendered  in  The 
Book  of  Isaiah  (1870),  Cheyne  (p.  33)  explains  that  gods  are  spirits  of  de- 
parted national  heroes.  [In  The  Prophecies  of  Isaiah  (1882)  he  varies  the 
translation ;  especially  by  changing  gods  into  god — a  rendering  of  elohim, 
which  agrees  with  accepted  ideas  much  better  than  it  agrees  with  the  context.] 
Concerning  the  second  passage  the  Speaker's  Commentary  says — "It  is  possi- 
ble that  elohim  is  here  used  in  a  general  sense  of  a  supernatural  appearance, 
either  angel  or  spirit."  And  Kuenen  remarks  (I,  p.  224) :  "  There  is  no  doubt 
that  originally  the  higher  beings,  the  objects  of  man's  fear  (el6ah\  were  indi- 
cated by  it  [the  name  elohim],  so  that  this  name  too  avails  as  an  argument  in 
favour  of  a  former  plurality  of  gods." 


ANCESTOR-WORSHIP  IN  GENERAL.  305 

there  will  develop  many  unlike  conceptions  out  of  concep- 
tions originally  alike.  The  spirits  of  the  dead,  forming,  in 
a  primitive  tribe,  an  ideal  group  the  members  of  which  are 
but  little  distinguished  from  one  another,  will  grow  more 
and  more  distinguished.  As  societies  advance,  and  as  tra- 
ditions, local  and  general,  accumulate  and  complicate,  these 
once-similar  human  souls,  acquiring  in  the  popular  mind 
differences  of  character  and  importance,  will  diverge ;  until 
their  original  community  of  nature  becomes  scarcely  recog- 
nizable. 

Expecting,  then,  heterogeneous  modifications  of  them, 
multiplying  in  thought  as  populations  increase,  ever  spread- 
ing into  more  varied  habitats,  and  tending  continually  to 
fill  every  place  in  Nature  that  can  be  occupied,  let  us  now 
contemplate  some  of  their  most  conspicuous  types. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

IDOL-WORSHIP    AND    FETICH-WORSHIP. 

§  154.  FACTS  already  named  show  how  sacrifices  to  the 
man  recently  dead,  pass  into  sacrifices  to  his  preserved  body. 
In  §  137  we  saw  that  to  the  corpse  of  a  Tahitian  chief,  daily 
offerings  were  made  on  an  altar  by  a  priest;  and  the  an- 
cient Central  Americans  performed  kindred  rites  before 
bodies  dried  by  artificial  heat.  That,  as  embalming  devel- 
oped, this  grew  into  mummy-worship,  Peruvians  and  Egyp- 
tians have  furnished  proof.  Here  the  thing  to  be  observed 
is  that,  while  believing  the  ghost  of  the  dead  man  to  have 
gone  away,  these  peoples  had  confused  notions,  either  that 
it  came  back  into  the  mummy,  or  that  the  mummy  was  itself 
conscious.  Among  the  Egyptians,  this  was  implied  by  the 
practice  of  sometimes  placing  their  embalmed  dead  at  table. 
The  Peruvians,  who  by  a  parallel  custom  betrayed  a  like 
belief,  betrayed  it  in  other  ways  also.  By  some  of  them  the 
dried  corpse  of  a  parent  was  carried  round  the  fields  that  he 
might  see  the  state  of  the  crops.  How  the  ancestor,  thus 
recognized  as  present,  was  also  recognized  as  exercising 
authority,  we  see  in  a  story  narrated  by  Santa  Cruz.  When 
his  second  sister  refused  to  marry  him,  Huayna  Ccapac 
"  went  with  presents  and  offerings  to  the  body  of  his  father, 
praying  him  to  give  her  for  his  wife,  but  the  dead  body  gave 
no  answer,  while  fearful  signs  appeared  in  the  heavens." 

The  primitive  notion  that  any  property  characterizing 

an  aggregate  inheres  in  all  parts  of  it,  implies  a  corollary 

306 


IDOL-WORSHIP  AND   FETICH-WORSHIP.  307 

from  this  belief.  The  soul,  present  in  the  body  of  the  dead 
man  preserved  entire,  is  also  present  in  preserved  parts  of 
his  body.  Hence  the  faith  in  relics.  In  the  Sandwich 
Islands,  bones  of  kings  and  principal  chiefs  were  carried 
about  by  their  descendants,  under  the  belief  that  the  spirits 
exercised  guardianship  over  them.  The  Crees  carry  bones 
and  hair  of  deceased  relatives  about  for  three  years.  The 
Caribs,  and  several  Guiana  tribes,  have  their  cleaned  bones 
"  distributed  among  the  relatives  after  death."  The  Tas- 
manians  show  "  anxiety  to  possess  themselves  of  a  bone  from 
the  skull  or  the  arms  of  their  deceased  relatives."  The 
Andamanese  "  widows  may  be  seen  with  the  skulls  of  their 
deceased  partners  suspended  from  their  necks." 

This  belief  in  the  power  of  relics  leads  in  some  cases  to 
direct  worship  of  them.  The  natives  of  Lifu,  Loyalty 
Islands,  who  "  invoke  the  spirits  of  their  departed  chiefs," 
also  "  preserve  relics  of  their  dead,  such  as  a  finger-nail, 
a  tooth,  a  tuft  of  hair,  .  .  .  and  pay  divine  homage  to  it." 
"  In  cases  of  sickness,  and  other  calamities,"  New  Cale- 
donians "  present  offerings  of  food  to  the  skulls  of  the  de- 
parted." Moreover,  we  have  the  evidence  furnished  by 
conversation  with  a  relic.  "  In  the  private  fetish-hut  of  the 
King  Ad61ee,  at  Badagry,  the  skull  of  that  monarch's  father 
is  preserved  in  a  clay  vessel  placed  in  the  earth."  He 
"  gently  rebukes  it  if  his  success  does  not  happen  to  answer 
his  expectations."  Similarly  among  the  Mandans,  who 
place  the  skulls  of  their  dead  in  a  circle,  each  wife  knows 
the  skull  of  her  former  husband  or  child, 
"  and  there  seldom  passes  a  day  that  she  does  not  visit  it,  with  a  dish 
of  the  best-cooked  food.  .  .  .  There  is  scarcely  an  hour  in  a  pleasant 
day,  but  more  or  less  of  these  women  may  be  seen  sitting  or  lying  by 
the  skull  of  their  child  or  husband — talking  to  it  in  the  most  pleasant 
and  endearing  language  that  they  can  use  (as  they  were  wont  to  do 
in  former  days),  and  seemingly  getting  an  answer  back." 

Thus  propitiation  of  the  man  just  dead  leads  to  pro- 
pitiation of  his  preserved  body,  or  a  preserved  part  of  it; 
and  the  ghost  is  supposed  to  be  present  in  each. 


308  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

§  155.  Any  one  asked  to  imagine  a  transition  from  wor- 
ship of  the  preserved  body,  or  a  preserved  part  of  it,  to  idol- 
worship,  would  probably  fail;  but  transitions  occur. 

The  object  worshipped  is  sometimes  a  figure  of  the  de- 
ceased, made  partly  of  his  remains  and  partly  of  other  sub- 
stances. Landa  says  the  Yucatanese — 
"cut  off  the  heads  of  the  ancient  lords  of  Cocom  when  they  died, 
and  cleared  them  from  flesh  by  cooking  them ;  they  then  sawed  off 
half  of  the  top  of  the  head,  leaving  the  anterior  part  with  the  jaw- 
bones and  teeth,  and  to  these  half-skulls  they  joined  what  they 
wanted  in  flesh  with  a  certain  cement,  and  made  them  as  like  as  pos- 
sible to  those  to  whom  they  belonged;  and  they  kept  them  along 
with  the  statues  and  the  ashes.  All  were  kept  in  the  oratories  of 
their  houses  beside  their  idols,  and  were  greatly  reverenced  and  assid- 
uously cared  for.  On  all  their  festivals  they  offered  them  food." 
...  In  other  cases  they  "made  for  their  fathers  wooden  statues," 
left  "the  occiput  hollow,"  put  in  ashes  of  the  burnt  body,  and  at- 
tached ' '  the  skin  of  the  occiput  taken  off  the  corpse. " 

The  Mexicans  had  a  different  method  of  joining  some  of 
the  deceased's  substance  with  an  effigy  of  him.  When  a 
dead  lord  had  been  burned,  "  they  carefully  collected  the 
ashes,  and  after  having  kneaded  them  with  human  blood, 
they  made  of  them  an  image  of  the  deceased,  which  was  kept 
in  memory  of  him."  And  from  Camargo  we  also  learn  that 
images  of  the  dead  were  worshipped. 

A  transitional  combination  partially  unlike  in  kind  is 
found:  sometimes  the  ashes  are  contained  in  a  man-shaped 
receptacle  of  clay.  Among  the  Yucatanese — 

"The  bodies  of  lords  and  people  of  high  position  were  burnt. 
The  ashes  were  put  in  large  urns  and  temples  erected  over  them.  .  .  . 
In  the  case  of  great  lords  the  ashes  were  placed  in  hollow  clay 
statues." 

And  in  yet  other  cases  there  is  worship  of  the  relics  joined 
with  the  representative  figure,  not  by  inclusion  but  only  by 
proximity.  Speaking  of  the  Mexicans,  Gomara  says  that 
having  burnt  the  body  of  their  deceased  king,  they  gathered 
up  the  ashes,  bones,  jewels,  and  gold,  in  cloths,  and  made  a 


IDOL-WORSHIP  AND  FETICH-WORSHIP.  309 

figure  dressed  as  a  man,  before  which,  as  well  as  before  the 
relics,  offerings  were  placed. 

Lastly  may  be  named  the  practice  of  the  Egyptians,  who 
as  their  frescoes  show,  often  worshipped  the  mummy  not 
as  exposed  to  view,  but  as  inclosed  in  a  case  shaped  and 
painted  to  represent  the  dead  man. 

§  156.  From  these  examples  of  transition  we  may  turn 
to  those  in  which  funeral  propitiations  are  made  to  a  sub- 
stituted image. 

The  Mexicans  practised  cremation;  and  when  men 
killed  in  battle  were  missing,  they  made  figures  of  them, 
and  after  honouring  these  burnt  them.  Again, 

"When  any  of  the  merchants  died  on  their  journey,  .  .  .  his  re- 
lations .  .  .  formed  an  imperfect  statue  of  wood  to  represent  the 
deceased,  to  which  they  paid  all  the  funeral  honours  which  they 
would  have  done  to  the  real  body/' 

"When  some  one  died  drowned  or  in  any  other  way  which  ex- 
cluded concremation  and  required  burial,  they  made  a  likeness  of 
him  and  put  it  on  the  altar  of  idols,  together  with  a  large  offering  of 
wine  and  bread." 

In  Africa  kindred  observances  occur.  While  a  deceased 
king  of  Congo  is  being  embalmed,  a  figure  is  set  up  in  the 
palace  to  represent  him,  and  is  daily  furnished  with  food 
and  drink.  Among  the  Abyssinians  mourning  takes  place 
on  the  third  day;  and  the  deceased  having  been  buried  on 
the  day  of  his  death,  a  representation  of  the  corpse  does  duty 
instead.  Some  Papuan  Islanders,  after  a  grave  is  filled  up, 
collect  round  an  idol  and  offer  provisions  to  it.  Concern- 
ing certain  Javans,  Raffles  says  that  after  a  death  a  feast  is 
held,  in  which  a  man-shaped  figure,  "  supported  round  the 
body  by  the  clothes  of  the  deceased,"  plays  an  important 
part. 

These  practices  look  strange  to  us;  but  a  stranger  thing 
is  that  we  have  so  soon  forgotten  the  like  practices  of  civil- 
ized nations.  When  Charles  VI  of  France  was  buried, 

21 


310  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

"Over  the  coffin  was  an  image  of  the  late  king,  bearing  a  rich 
crown  of  gold  and  diamonds  and  holding  two  shields,  one  of  gold, 
the  other  of  silver;  the  hands  had  white  gloves  on,  and  the  fingers 
were  adorned  with  very  precious  rings.  This  image  was  dressed 
with  cloth  of  gold," .  .  .  "In  this  state  was  he  solemnly  carried  to 
the  church  of  Notre  Dame." 

Speaking  of  the  father  of  the  great  Conde*,  Mme.  de  Motte- 
ville  says — "  The  effigy  of  this  prince  was  waited  upon 
(servit)  for  three  days,  as  was  customary:  "  forty  days  hav- 
ing been  the  original  time  during  which  food  was  supplied 
to  such  an  effigy  at  the  usual  hours.  Monstrelet  describes 
a  like  figure  used  at  the  burial  of  Henry  V  of  England ;  and 
figures  of  many  English  monarchs,  thus  honoured  at  their 
funerals,  are  still  preserved  in  Westminster  Abbey:  the 
older  having  decayed  into  fragments. 

With  these  reminders  before  us,  we  can  have  little  diffi- 
culty in  understanding  the  primitive  ideas  respecting  such 
representations.  When  we  read  that  the  Coast  Xegroes  in 
some  districts  "  place  several  earthen  images  on  the  graves;  " 
that  the  Araucanians  fixed  over  a  tomb  an  upright  log, 
"  rudely  carved  to  represent  the  human  frame ;  "  that  after 
the  deaths  of  New  Zealand  chiefs,  wooden  images,  20  to 
40  ft.  high,  were  erected  as  monuments ;  we  cannot  shut  our 
eyes  to  the  fact  that  the  figure  of  the  dead  man  is  an  incipient 
idol.  Could  we  doubt,  our  doubting  would  end  on  finding 
the  figure  persistently  worshipped.  Jos.  de  Acosta  says  of 
the  Peruvians  that — 

"every  king  in  his  lifetime  caused  a  figure  to  be  made  wherein  he 
was  represented,  which  they  called  Huanque,  which  signifieth  brother, 
for  that  they  should  doe  to  this  image,  during  his  life  and  death,  as 
much  honour  and  reverence  as  to  himself." 
So,  too,  according  to  Andagoya, 

""When  a  chief  died,  his  house  and  wives  and  servants  remained 
as  in  his  lifetime,  and  a  statue  of  gold  was  made  in  the  likeness  of 
the  chief,  which  was  served  as  if  it  had  been  alive,  and  certain 
villages  were  set  apart  to  provide  it  with  clothing,  and  all  other 
necessaries." 


IDOL-WORSHIP  AND  FETICH-WORSHIP.  3H 

And  the  Yucatanese  "  worshipped  the  idol  of  one  who  is 
said  to  have  been  one  of  their  great  captains." 

§  157.  That  we  may  understand  better  the  feelings  with 
which  a  savage  looks  at  a  representative  figure,  let  us  re- 
call the  feelings  produced  by  representations  among  our- 
selves. 

When  a  lover  kisses  the  miniature  of  his  mistress,  he  is 
obviously  influenced  by  an  association  between  the  appear- 
ance and  the  reality.  Even  more  strongly  do  such  associa- 
tions sometimes  act.  A  young  lady  known  to  me  confesses 
that  she  cannot  bear  to  sleep  in  a  room  having  portraits  on 
the  walls;  and  this  repugnance  is  not  uncommon.  In  such 
cases  the  knowledge  that  portraits  consist  of  paint  and  can- 
vas only,  fails  to  expel  the  suggestion  of  something  more. 
The  vivid  representation  so  strongly  arouses  the  thought 
of  a  living  person,  that  this  cannot  be  kept  out  of  conscious- 
ness. 

Now  suppose  culture  absent — suppose  there  exist  no 
ideas  of  attribute,  law,  cause — no  distinctions  between  nat- 
ural and  unnatural,  possible  and  impossible.  This  associated 
consciousness  of  a  living  presence  will  then  persist.  No  con- 
flict with  established  knowledge  arising,  the  unresisted  sug- 
gestion will  become  a  belief. 

In  §  133,  beliefs  thus  produced  in  savages  were  inci- 
dentally referred  to.  Here  are  some  further  examples  of 
them.  The  North  American  Indians  think  portraits  super- 
natural, and  look  at  them  with  the  same  ceremony  as  at  a 
dead  person.  The  Okanagans  "  have  the  same  aversion  that 
has  been  noted  on  the  coast  "  to  having  their  portraits  taken. 
The  Mandans  thought  the  life  put  into  a  picture  was  so  much 
life  taken  from  the  original.  Catlin  says — 

"They  pronounced  me  the  greatest  medicine  man  in  the  world; 
for  they  said  I  had  made  living  feings, — they  said  they  could  see  their 
chiefs  alive,  in  two  places — those  that  I  had  made  were  a  little  alive — 
they  could  see  their  eyes  move." 
Nor  do  more  advanced  races  fail  to  supply  kindred  facts. 


312  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

In  Madagascar,  friends  of  a  prince,  on  seeing  a  photograph 
of  him,  took  oif  their  hats  to  it  and  verbally  saluted  it. 

That  which  holds  of  a  picture  holds  of  an  image — holds 
even  more  naturally ;  since  the  carved  representation  being 
solid,  approaches  closer  to  the  reality.  Where  the  image  is 
painted  and  has  eyes  inserted,  this  notion  of  participation  in 
the  vitality  of  the  person  imitated  becomes,  in  the  uncritical 
mind  of  the  savage,  very  strong.  Any  one  who  remembers 
the  horror  a  child  shows  on  seeing  an  adult  put  on  an  ugly 
mask,  even  when  the  mask  has  been  previously  shown  to  it, 
may  conceive  the  awe  which  a  rude  effigy  excites  in  the 
primitive  mind.  The  sculptured  figure  of  the  dead  man 
arouses  the  thought  of  the  actual  dead  man,  which  passes 
into  a  conviction  that  he  is  present. 

§  158.  And  why  should  it  not?  If  the  other-self  can 
leave  the  living  body  and  re-enter  it — if  the  ghost  can  come 
back  and  animate  afresh  the  dead  body — if  the  embalmed 
Peruvian,  presently  to  be  revived  by  his  returned  double, 
was  then  to  need  his  carefully-preserved  hair  and  nails — 
if  the  soul  of  the  Egyptian,  after  its  transmigrations  occu- 
pying some  thousands  of  years,  was  expected  to  infuse  itself 
once  more  into  his  mummy;  why  should  not  a  spirit  go 
into  an  image?  A  living  body  differs  more  from  a  mummy 
in  texture,  than  a  mummy  does  from  wood.  Obviously  this 
was  the  reasoning  of  the  Egyptians  who  provided  for  the 
&<z,  or  double,  of  a  dead  man,  a  statue  or  statues  entombed 
with  his  dried  body,  as  substitutes  for  it  should  it  be  de- 
stroyed. M.  Maspe"ro  writes: — 

"Le  corps  qui,  pendant  la  duree  de  1'existence  terrestre,  avait 
servi  de  support  au  Double,  momifie  maintenant  et  defigure,  quelque 
soin  qu'on  eut  mis  a  1'embaumer,  ne  rappelait  plus  que  de  loin  la 
forme  du  vivant.  H  etait,  d'ailleurs,  unique  et  facile  a  detruire :  on 
pouvait  le  bruler,  le  demembrer,  en  disperser  les  morceaux.  Lui 
disparu,  que  serait  devenu  le  Doublet  II  s'appuyait  sur  les  statues. 
Les  statues  etaient  plus  solides  et  rien  n'empechait  de  les  fabriquer 
en  la  quantit6  qu'on  voulait.  Un  seul  corps  etait  une  seule  chance 


IDOL-WORSHIP  AND  FETICH-WORSHIP.  313 

de  dur£e  pour  le  Double;  vingt  statues  repr6sentaient  vingt-cinq 
chances.  De  la,  ce  nombre  vraiment  etonnant  de  statues  qu'on  ren- 
contre quelquefois  dans  une  seule  tombe." 

Whence  it  is  inferable  that  the  Egyptians  regarded  the  stat- 
ues of  gods  and  kings  as  occasional  habitations  for  their 
ghosts. 

That  a  savage  thinks  an  effigy  is  inhabited  we  have  abun- 
dant proofs.  Among  the  Yorubans,  a  mother  carries  for 
some  time  a  wooden  figure  of  her  lost  child,  and  when  she 
eats,  puts  part  of  her  food  to  its  lips.  The  Samoiedes  "  feed 
the  wooden  images  of  the  dead."  The  relatives  of  an  Os- 
tyak— 

"make  a  rude  wooden  image  representing,  and  in  honour  of,  the  de- 
ceased, which  is  set  up  in  the  yurt  and  receives  divine  honours  for  a 
greater  or  less  time  as  the  priest  directs.  ...  At  every  meal  they  set 
an  offering  of  food  before  the  image;  and  should  this  represent  a 
deceased  husband,  the  widow  embraces  it  from  time  to  time.  .  .  . 
This  kind  of  worship  of  the  dead  lasts  about  three  years,  at  the  end 
of  which  time  the  image  is  buried." 

Erman,  who  states  this,  adds  the  significant  fact  that  the 
descendants  of  deceased  priests  preserve  the  images  of  their 
ancestors  from  generation  to  generation; 
"and  by  well-contrived  oracles  and  other  arts,  they  manage  to  pro- 
cure offerings  for  these  their  family  penates,  as  abundant  as  those  laid 
on  the  altars  of  the  universally-acknowledged  gods.  But  that  these 
latter  also  have  an  historical  origin,  that  they  were  originally  monu- 
ments of  distinguished  men,  to  which  prescription  and  the  interest  of 
the  Shamans  gave  by  degrees  an  arbitrary  meaning  and  importance, 
seems  to  me  not  liable  to  doubt." 

These  Ostyaks,  indeed,  show  us  unmistakably  how  the  dead 
man's  effigy  passes  into  the  divine  idol ;  for  the  worships  of 
the  two  are  identical.  At  each  meal,  placing  the  dishes  be- 
fore the  household  god,  they  wait  (i.  e.,  fast)  till  "  the  idol, 
who  eats  invisibly,  has  had  enough."  Moreover,  when  a 
Samoiede  goes  on  a  journey,  "  his  relatives  direct  the  idol 
towards  the  place  to  which  he  is  gone,  in  order  that  it  may 
look  after  him."  How,  among  more  advanced  peoples  in 
these  regions,  there  persists  the  idea  that  the  idol  of  the  god, 


314:  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

developed  as  we  have  seen  from  the  effigy  of  the  dead  man, 
is  the  residence  of  a  conscious  being,  is  implied  by  the  fol- 
lowing statement  of  Erman  respecting  the  Russians  of 
Irkutsk: — 

"Whatever  familiarities  may  be  permitted  between  the  sexes,  the 
only  scruple  by  which  the  young  women  are  infallibly  controlled,  is 
a  superstitious  dread  of  being  alone  with  their  lovers  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  holy  images.  Conscientious  difficulties  of  this  kind,  how- 
ever, are  frequently  obviated  by  putting  these  witnesses  behind  a 
curtain." 

Like  beliefs  are  displayed  by  other  races  wholly  unallied. 
After  a  death  in  a  Sandwich-Island  family,  the  survivors 
worship  "  an  image  with  which  they  imagine  the  spirit  is  in 
some  way  connected;  "  and  "  Oro,  the  great  national  idol, 
was  generally  supposed  to  give  the  responses  to  the  priests." 
Of  the  Yucatan  ese  we  read  that  "  when  the  Itzaex  per- 
formed any  feat  of  valour,  their  idols,  whom  they  consulted, 
were  wont  to  make  reply  to  them;  "  and  Yillagutierre  de- 
scribes the  beating  of  an  idol  said  to  have  predicted  the 
arrival  of  the  Spaniards,  but  who  had  deceived  them  respect- 
ing the  result.  Even  more  strikingly  shown  is  this  implica- 
tion in  the  Quiche  legend.  Here  is  an  extract: — 

"And  they  worshipped  the  gods  that  had  become  stone,  Tohil, 
Avilix,  and  Hacavitz ;  and  they  offered  them  the  blood  of  beasts,  and 
of  birds,  and  pierced  their  own  ears  and  shoulders  in  honour  of  these 
gods,  and  collected  the  blood  with  a  sponge,  and  pressed  it  out  into 
a  cup  before  them.  .  .  .  And  these  three  gods,  petrified,  as  we  have 
told,  could  nevertheless  resume  a  moveable  shape  when  they  pleased ; 
which,  indeed,  they  often  did." 

Nor  is  it  among  inferior  races  only  that  conceptions  of 
this  kind  are  found.  Dozy,  describing  the  ideas  and  prac- 
tices of  idolatrous  Arabians,  quotes  this  story: — 

"When  Amrolcais  set  out  to  revenge  the  death  of  his  father  on  the 
Beni  Asad,  he  stopped  at  the  temple  of  the  idol  Dhou-'l-Kholosa  to 
consult  fate  by  means  of  the  three  arrows  called  command,  prohibi- 
tion, expectation.  Having  drawn  prohibition,  he  recommenced  draw- 
ing. But  three  times  he  drew  prohibition.  Thereupon  he  broke 
the  arrows  and  throwing  them  at  the  idol's  head,  he  shouted— 


IDOL-WORSHIP  AND  FETICH- WORSHIP.  315 

''Wretch,  if  the  killed  man  had  been  thy  father,  thou  wouldsl  not 
have  forbidden  revenging  him.'  " 

Of  kindred  beliefs  in  classic  times,  an  instance  is  furnished 
by  the  statements  respecting  the  so-called  vocal  Memnon. 
Among  the  inscriptions  made  by  visitors  on  its  pedestal,  here 
is  one  signed  Gemellus: — "  Once  the  son  of  Saturn,  great 
Jove,  had  made  thee  monarch  of  the  East;  now  thou  art 
but  a  stone;  and  it  is  from  a  stone  that  thy  voice  proceeds." 
Similarly  with  the  beliefs  of  early  Christians,  implied  by  the 
miracles  narrated  in  the  Apocryphal  Gospels.  "  Coming 
into  India,  the  Apostle  Bartholomew  entered  a  temple,  in 
which  was  the  idol  Ashtaroth."  ...  At  the  wish  of  the 
king,  he  agrees  to  expel  the  demon,  and  next  day  engages 
in  a  dialogue  with  him.  ..."  Then  the  apostle  commands 
him — '  If  thou  dost  not  wish  to  be  hurled  into  the  abyss, 
come  forth  from  the  image  and  break  it,  and  go  forth  into 
the  desert.'  " 

The  proofs,  then,  are  many  and  conclusive.  The  savage, 
thinking  the  effigy  of  the  dead  man  is  inhabited  by  his  ghost, 
propitiates  it  accordingly ;  and  as  the  effigy  of  the  dead  man 
develops  into  the  idol  of  the  god,  the  sacrifices  to  it  are  made 
under  a  kindred  belief  in  a  spiritual  resident. 

§  159.  What  degree  of  likeness  to  a  human  being  suf- 
fices to  suggest  the  presence  of  a  human  soul?  These  im- 
ages the  savage  makes  are  very  rude.  The  carved  post  he. 
sticks  on  a  grave,  or  the  little  stone  figure  he  hangs  round 
his  neck  instead  of  an  actual  relic  of  a  relative,  resembles 
but  remotely  a  human  being,  and  not  at  all  the  individual 
commemorated.  Still  it  suffices.  And  considering  how 
easily  the  primitive  mind,  unchecked  by  scepticism,  accepts 
the  slightest  suggestion,  we  may  expect  that  even  smaller 
likenesses  will  suffice.  A  dead  tree  outstretching  its  remain- 
ing  arms  in  a  strange  way,  or  a  rock  of  which  the  profile  seen 
against  the  sky  recalls  a  face,  will  arouse  the  idea  of  a  human 
inhabitant.  Merely  noting,  however,  that  such  accidental 


316  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

similarities  aid  in  extending  to  various  objects  the  notion  of 
resident  ghosts,  let  us  observe  the  more  potent  causes  of 
fetichistic  beliefs. 

In  §  54  we  saw  how  the  discovery  of  plants  and  animals 
imbedded  in  rock,  prepares  the  mind  to  suspect  animation 
in  certain  inanimate  things.  Here  is  a  fossil  shell;  there 
are  the  remains  of  a  fish  changed  into  stone.  If  wood,  re- 
taining all  its  fibrous  appearance,  may  become  flint,  may  not 
a  man  also  turn  into  this  dense  substance?  And  if  the  dry, 
hard  body  of  a  mummy  may  be  entered  by  its  soul — if  a 
wooden  image  may  be  so  too;  may  not  souls  be  present  in 
petrified  masses  that  look  like  parts  of  men  ?  See  these  bones 
which  have  been  dug  up — heavy,  stony,  but  in  shape  suffi- 
ciently like  human  bones  to  deceive  the  savage ;  as,  in  fact, 
such  bones  have,  in  past  times,  habitually  deceived  the  civil- 
ized, leading  to  stories  of  giant  races.  What  is  to  be  thought 
of  them?  Are  they  not,  like  other  human  remains,  fre- 
quented by  the  doubles  to  which  they  once  belonged  ?  Will 
they  not  some  day  be  re-animated? 

Be  this  or  be  it  not  the  origin  of  reverence  for  stones, 
this  reverence  is  certainly  in  some  cases  accompanied  by  the 
belief  that  they  were  once  men,  and  that  they  will  eventually 
revive  as  men.  Already  I  have  named  the  fact  that  the 
Laches  "  worshipped  every  stone  as  a  god,  as  they  said  that 
they  had  all  been  men."  Arriaga  says  the  Peruvians  "  wor- 
ship certain  heights  and  mountains,  and  very  large  stones 
.  .  .  saying  that  they  were  once  men."  Avendafio  argued 
with  them  thus: — 

"Your  wise  men  say  that  of  old  in  Purmupacha  there  were  men, 
and  now  we  see  with  our  own  eyes  that  they  are  stones,  or  hills,  or 
rocks,  or  islands  of  the  sea.  ...  If  these  huacas  originally  were  men, 
and  had  a  father  and  mother,  like  ourselves,  and  then  Contiviracocha 
has  turned  them  into  stones,  they  are  worthless." 
Such  stones  stand  in  the  same  relation  to  the  inhabiting 
ghosts  that  mummies  do:  witness  Arriaga's  statement  that 
the  Marcayoc  who  is  worshipped  as  the  patron  of  the  village, 


IDOL- WORSHIP  AND  FETICH-WORSHIP.  317 

"  is  sometimes  a  stone  and  sometimes  a  mummy."  They 
also  stand  in  the  same  relation  to  ghosts  that  idols  do:  wit- 
ness the  statement  of  Montesinos,  that  the  Ynca  Rocca 
"  caused  to  be  thrown  from  the  mountain  [a  certain  idol]. 
.  .  .  They  say  that  a  parrot  flew  out  of  it  and  entered  an- 
other stone,  which  is  still  shown  in  the  valley.  The  Indians 
have  greatly  honoured  it  since  that  time,  and  still  worship 
it."  And  this  belief  was  definitely  expressed  when  in  1560, 
the  native  priests,  describing  the  ancestral  ghosts  or  huacas 
as  enraged  with  those  who  had  become  Christians,  said  u  the 
times  of  the  Yncas  wrould  be  restored,  and  the  huacas  would 
not  enter  into  stones  or  fountains  to  speak,  but  would  be 
incorporated  in  men  whom  they  will  cause  to  speak."  The 
Coast  Negroes  betray  kindred  ideas.  In  some  towns,  when 
a  person  dies,  a  stone  is  taken  to  a  certain  house  provided; 
and  among  the  Bulloms,  certain  women  "  make  occasional 
sacrifices  and  offerings  of  rice  to  the  stones  which  are  pre- 
served in  memory  of  the  dead.  They  prostrate  themselves 
before  these." 

This  last  instance  introduces  us  to  another  mode  in  which 
fetichistic  conceptions  arise.  Already  the  practices  of  sor- 
cerers have  familiarized  us  with  the  primitive  belief  that 
each  person's  nature  inheres  not  only  in  all  parts  of  his  body, 
but  in  his  dress  and  the  things  he  has  used.  Probably  the 
interpretation  of  odour  has  led  to  this  belief.  If  the  breath 
is  the  spirit  or  other-self,  is  not  this  invisible  emanation 
which  permeates  a  man's  clothing,  and  by  which  he  may  be 
traced,  also  a  part  of  his  other-self?  Various  derivations 
show  us  this  connexion  of  ideas.  Perfume  and  fume  coming 
from  a  word  applied  to  smoke  or  vapour,  are  thus  brought 
into  relation  with  the  visible  vapour  of  breath.  Exhalation 
is  that  which  breathes  out  of.  In  Latin,  nidor-was  applicable 
alike  to  a  steam  and  a  smell ;  and  the  German  duft,  used  for 
a  delicate  odour,  originally  meant  vapour.  Just  as  we  now 
speak  of  the  "  breath  of  flowers  "  as  equivalent  to  their  fra- 
grance; so,  in  early  speech,  did  men  associate  smell  with 


318  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

expired  air,  which  was  identified  with  soul.  Have  we  not, 
indeed,  ourselves  come  to  use  the  word  spirit,  similarly 
having  reference  to  breath,  for  the  odorous  steam  which 
distils  from  a  thing;  and  may  not  the  savage  therefore  nat- 
urally regard  the  spirit  as  having  entered  that  to  which  the 
odour  clings  ?  However  this  may  be,  we  find  proof  that  not 
dress  only,  but  even  stones,  are  supposed  to  become  perme- 
ated by  this  invisible  emanation,  existing  either  as  breath 
or  as  odour.  When  a  noble  died  in  Yera  Paz,  "  the  first 
thing  they  did  after  his  death  was  to  put  a  precious  stone 
in  his  mouth.  Others  say  that  they  did  this,  not  after  his 
death,  but  in  his  last  moments.  The  object  of  it  was  that 
the  stone  received  his  soul."  A  kindred  notion  is  implied 
by  a  practice  of  the  Mexicans,  who,  along  with  a  man's  re- 
mains, "  put  a  gem  of  more  or  less  value,  which  they  said 
would  serve  him  in  place  of  a  heart  in  the  other  world:  " 
heart  and  soul  being,  with  sundry  American  peoples,  con- 
vertible terms.  Under  another  form  the  idea  meets  us 
among  the  Xew  Zealanders.  Mr.  White,  who  in  Te  Rou 
embodies  many  New  Zealand  superstitions,  narrates  a  dis- 
cussion concerning  the  ghosts  of  the  dead,  in  which  an  old 
man  says — 

"  Are  not  all  things  the  offspring  of  the  gods  ?  Is  not  the  kumara 
the  god  that  hid  himself  from  fear  ?  Do  you  not  eat  the  kumara  ? 
Are  not  fish  another  god  who  went  into  the  water  ?  Do  you  eat 
fish  ?  Are  not  the  birds  also  gods  ?  Were  not  the  gods  spirits  [i,  e., 
ghosts  of  men]  ?  Then  why  are  you  not  afraid  of  the  things  that  you 
eat  ?  Anything  cooked  sends  the  spirit  into  the  stones  on  which 
they  are  cooked.  Then,  why  do  old  people  eat  out  of  a  hangi,  and 
off  the  stones  which  hold  the  spirit  of  the  food  cooked  on  them  ? " 

Thus  the  original  belief  is  that  as  a  dead  body,  or  a 
mummy,  or  an  effigy,  may  be  entered  by  a  spirit;  so,  too, 
may  a  shapeless  stone.  Adoration  of  inanimate  objects  thus 
possessed  by  ghosts,  is  really  adoration  of  the  indwelling 
ghosts;  and  the  powers  ascribed  to  such  objects  are  the 
powers  ascribed  to  such  ghosts. 


IDOL-WORSHIP  AND  FETICH-WORSHIP.  319 

§  160.  This  notion,  once  established,  develops  in  all  di- 
rections. A  ready  explanation  of  everything  remarkable  is 
furnished.  When  ghosts,  accumulating  and  losing  their 
once-remembered  individualities,  are  thought  of  as  a  multi- 
tude of  invisible  beings — when  they  are  here  conceived  as 
elbowing  the  inhabitants  of  the  house,  there  as  swarming 
in  the  nooks  of  the  forests,  elsewhere  as  so  numerous  that 
a  thing  cannot  be  thrown  aside  without  danger  of  hitting 
one ;  it  happens,  inevitably,  that  being  always  at  hand  they 
become  the  assigned  causes  of  unfamiliar  occurrences.  In- 
stances are  furnished  by  every  race. 

In  Africa  the  Bulloms  regard  with  awe,  as  implying 
spirit-agency,  "  whatever  appears  to  them  strange  or  un- 
common." By  the  Congo  people,  certain  shells  are  called 
"  God's  children;  "  and  the  Xegroes  of  Little  Addoh  (on 
the  Niger),  astonished  at  the  size  of  a  European  vessel,  wor- 
shipped it.  The  like  holds  in  Polynesia.  A  sledge  left  by 
Cook  or  his  companions  was  worshipped  by  the  natives. 
A  cocoa-nut  tree  in  Fiji,  which  divided  into  two  branches, 
"  was  consequently  regarded  with'great  veneration."  Simi- 
larly in  America.  Supernaturalness  is  alleged  of  "  anything 
which  a  Dakotah  cannot  comprehend;  "  and  by  the  Man- 
dans  all  unusual  things  are  deemed  supernatural.  If  the 
Chippewas  "  do  not  understand  anything,  they  immediately 
say,  it  is  a  spirit"  and  the  same  notion  was  dominant 
among  the  ancient  Peruvians,  who  "  did  worship  all  things 
in  nature  which  seemed  to  them  remarkable  and  different 
from  the  rest,  as  acknowledging  some  particular  deitie." 

Thus  the  unusualness  which  makes  an  object  a  fetich, 
is  supposed  to  imply  an  indwelling  ghost — an  agent  without 
which  deviation  from  the  ordinary  would  be  inexplicable. 
There  is  no  tendency  gratuitously  to  ascribe  duality  of  na- 
ture; but  only  when  there  is  an  unfamiliar  appearance,  or 
motion,  or  sound,  or  change,  in  a  thing,  does  there  arise  this 
idea  of  a  possessing  spirit.  The  Chibchas  worshipped  "  at 
lakes,  rivulets,  rocks,  hills,  and  other  places  of  striking  or 


320  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

unusual  aspect :  "  saying  that  by  certain  occurrences  "  the 
demon  had  given  a  sign  that  they  should  worship  him  at 
such  places."  The  implication  here  so  manifest,  that  one  of 
the  haunting  invisible  beings  is  the  object  of  adoration,  is 
again  shown  us  by  the  Hindus.  Sir  A.  C.  Lyall,  though  he 
thinks  that  their  fetichism  has  become  a  kind  of  Pantheism, 
so  states  the  results  of  his  Indian  experiences  that  they  per- 
fectly harmonize  with  the  interpretation  here  given.  He 
says — 

"It  is  not  difficult  to  perceive  how  this  original  downright  adora- 
tion of  queer-looking  objects  is  modified  by  passing  into  the  higher 
order  of  imaginative  superstition.  First,  the  stone  is  the  abode  of 
some  spirit ;  its  curious  shape  or  situation  betraying  possession.  Next, 
this  strange  form  or  aspect  argues  some  design,  or  handiwork,  of 
supernatural  beings,"  etc. 

So  that  indirect  evidences  from  all  sides,  converge  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  fetich-worship  is  the  worship  of  a  special 
soul  supposed  to  have  taken  up  its  abode  in  the  fetich ;  which 
soul,  in  common  with  supernatural  agents  at  large,  is  origin- 
ally the  double  of  a  dead  man. 

§  161.  But  we  need  not  rest  with  indirect  evidence  of 
this.  Direct  evidence  is  abundant. 

Many  pages  back,  facts  were  given  showing  that  origin- 
ally the  fetich  is  nothing  but  the  ghost.  While,  in  §  58,  we 
saw  that  the  Abipones,  fearing  the  ghost,  thought  "  the  echo 
was  its  voice;  "  we  saw  that  the  African,  when  asked  why 
he  made  an  offering  to  the  echo,  answered — "  Did  you  not 
hear  the  fetish?  "  In  East  Africa  the  fetich-huts  have  food 
and  beer  placed  in  them  "  to  propitiate  the  ghosts."  The 
Coast  Negroes  who,  worshipping  the  dead,  perform  "  pil- 
grimages to  their  graves  to  make  oblations  and  sacrifices  " 
— who  moiild  clay  figures  of  their  departed  chiefs — who 
sometimes  have  tubes  leading  down  to  the  buried  corpses, 
through  which  they  daily  pour  libations ;  show  us  by  various 
associated  observances,  that  the  fetich  is  the  residence  of  the 
ghost.  The  natives  round  Sierra  Leone  "  seldom  or  never 


IDOL-WORSHIP  AND  FETICH-WORSHIP.  321 

drink  spirits,  wine,  etc.,  without  spilling  a  little  of  it  upon 
the  ground,  and  wetting  the  greegree  or  fetish;  "  Cruik- 
shank  mentions  certain  foods  abstained  from  according  to 
the  direction  of  the  fetich;  Bastian  names  a  fetich-man 
who  used  ventriloquism  in  announcing  the  oracles; — facts 
all  implying  notions  like  those  which  elsewhere  go  along 
with  ghost-worship.  Speaking  of  a  village  on  the  Niger 
where  the  fetich  was  a  carved  image,  Lander  says — "  We 
were  desired  to  roast  our  bullock  under  him,  that  he  might 
enjoy  the  savoury  smell."  And  in  Dahomey  "  the  roads, 
villages,  and  houses  are  filled  with  fetich-images  and  sacri- 
fices to  the  fetich."  Whether  the  fetich  is  a  bundle  of 
things  belonging  to  a  relative  who  has  died,  or  an  effigy  of 
this  deceased  person,  or  an  idol  that  has  lost  historic  indi- 
viduality, or  some  other  object,  the  resident  spirit  is  nothing 
but  a  modification  of  an  ancestral  ghost,  deviating  more  or 
less  according  to  circumstances.  The  certainty  of  this  con- 
clusion is  best  shown  by  the  summarized  statement  Beecham 
makes. 

"The  fetiches  are  believed  to  be  spiritual,  intelligent  beings,  who 
make  the  remarkable  objects  of  nature  their  residence,  or  enter  occa- 
sionally into  the  images  and  other  artificial  representations,  which 
have  been  duly  consecrated  by  certain  ceremonies.  It  is  the  belief 
of  the  people  that  the  fetiches  not  unfrequently  render  themselves 
visible  to  mortals.  .  .  .  They  believe  that  these  fetiches  are  of  both 
sexes,  and  that  they  require  food." 

And  if  this  occasional  visibility,  this  need  for  food,  and  this 
difference  of  sex,  are  not  enough  to  show  the  original  human 
nature  of  the  fetich,  it  is  conclusively  shown  by  the  follow- 
ing statement  of  Bastian  about  the  Congo  people. 

"  The  natives  say  that  the  great  fetich  of  Bamba  lives  in  the  inte- 
rior of  the  bush,  where  no  man  sees  him,  or  can  see  him.  When  he 
dies,  the  fetich-priests  carefully  collect  his  bones,  in  order  to  revive 
them,  and  nourish  them  till  they  again  acquire  flesh  and  blood." 

So  that  the  fetich,  besides  otherwise  corresponding  to 
the  ghost,  corresponds  as  being  expected  to  resume,  in  like 
manner,  the  original  bodily  form. 


322  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

§  162.  "We  will  now  draw  a  corollary  from  this  inter- 
pretation of  fetichism,  and  observe  how  completely  it  har- 
monizes with  the  facts. 

Evidence  has  been  given  that  sundry  low  types  of  men 
have  either  no  ideas  of  revival  after  death,  or  vague  and 
wavering  ideas:  the  conception  of  a  ghost  is  undeveloped. 
If,  as  contended  above,  the  worship  of  the  fetich  is  the  wor- 
ship of  an  indwelling  ghost,  or  a  supernatural  being  derived 
from  the  ghost;  it  follows  that  the  fetich-theory,  being  de- 
pendent on  the  ghost-theory,  must  succeed  it  in  order  of 
time.  Absent  where  there  is  no  ghost-theory,  fetichism 
will  arise  after  the  ghost-theory  has  arisen.  That  it  does 
this,  proofs  are  abundant. 

Of  the  Indian  Hill-tribes  may  be  named,  as  about  the 
lowest  known,  the  Jua"ngs,  who,  with  no  word  for  a  super- 
natural being,  with  no  idea  of  another  life,  with  no  ances- 
tor-worship, have  also  no  fetichism:  an  accompanying  ab- 
sence of  witchcraft  being  also  noteworthy.  The  Andaman 
Islanders,  classed  with  the  most  degraded  of  mankind,  who 
are  without  a  "  notion  of  their  own  origin,"  and  without 
a  notion  "  of  a  future  existence,"  are  also  without  fetich- 
ism :  such,  at  least,  is  the  conclusion  we  may  draw  from  the 
silence  of  those  who  describe  them.  Of  the  Fuegians,  too, 
among  whom  no  appearances  of  religion  were  found  by 
Cook,  no  fetichism  is  alleged.  Nor  have  those  very  inferior 
savages  the  Australians,  though  they  believe  in  ghosts, 
reached  the  stage  at  which  the  ghost-theory  originates  this 
derivative  theory :  they  do  not  propitiate  inanimate  objects. 
Their  now-extinct  neighbours,  too,  the  Tasmanians,  like 
them  in  grade,  were  like  them  in  this.  And  even  the  Yed- 
dahs,  who,  thinking  the  souls  of  their  relatives  are  every- 
where around,  have  a  dominant  ancestor-worship,  but  whose 
intelligence  and  social  state  are  extremely  low,  do  not  show 
us  this  extension  of  the  ghost-theory. 

The  implications  of  a  doctrine  do  not  occur  to  the  ut- 
terly stupid;  but  they  become  obvious  to  those  who  begin 


IDOL-WORSHIP  AND  FETICH-WORSHIP.  323 

to  think.  Hence,  in  proportion  as  the  reasoning  faculty  is 
good,  will  be  the  number  of  erroneous  conclusions  drawn 
from  erroneous  premises.  As  was  pointed  out  in  §§  57  and 
96,  it  is  not  savages  devoid  of  intelligence,  but  highly  in- 
telligent savages,  such  as  the  Fijians,  who  believe  that  a 
man  has  two  souls,  his  shadow  and  his  reflection;  and  who 
accept  the  inference  that,  as  objects  have  shadows,  they  too 
must  have  souls.  The  various  African  peoples 

even  taken  by  themselves,  suffice  to  show  that  fetichism, 
arises  only  when  a  certain  stage  of  mental  and  social  evolu- 
tion has  been  reached.  Xo  fetichism  is  alleged  of  the  Bush- 
men; and  of  the  African  races  whose  state  is  known  to  us, 
the  Bushmen  are  the  lowest.  The  Damaras,  among  whom, 
according  to  Andersson,  intelligence  is  "an  unusual  phe- 
nomenon," and  whose  stupidity  Galton  exemplifies  so  viv- 
idly, have  not  drawn  from  their  feebly-marked  ghost-beliefs 
the  inferences  whence  fetichism  arises:  Galton  says — "  of 
the  fetish  superstition  there  is  no  trace."  But  fetichism 
meets  us  among  the  more  advanced  African  races — the 
Congo  people,  the  Inland  Xegroes,  the  Coast  Negroes,  the 
Dahomans,  the  Ashantees.  We  find  it  rampant  where  there 
are  fortified  towns,  well-organized  governments,  large 
standing  armies,  prisons,  police,  and  sumptuary  laws,  con- 
siderable division  of  labour,  periodical  markets,  regular 
shops,  and  all  the  appliances  showing  some  progress  in  civil- 
ization. Still  more  conspicuously  is  this  relation 
exhibited  in  America.  We  do  not  read  of  fetichism  among 
the  rude  Chirihuanas  of  ancient  Peru;  but  among  the  civ- 
ilized Peruvians  it  was  immensely  elaborated.  Both  before 
and  after  the  Ynca  conquest,  "  they  worshipped  herbs, 
plants,  flowers,  all  kinds  of  trees,  high  hills,  great  rocks, 
and  the  chinks  in  them,  hollow  caves,  pebbles,  and  small 
stones  of  different  colours."  And  then,  if  we  ask 
where  fetichism  has  culminated,  we  are  referred  to  a  peo- 
ple whose  civilization,  older  in  date  than  our  own,  has 
created  vast  cities,  elaborate  industries,  a  liighly-struc- 


324  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

tured  language,  great  poems,  subtle  philosophies.  In 
India, 

"A  woman  adores  the  basket  which  serves  to  bring  or  to  hold 
her  necessaries,  and  offers  sacrifices  to  it ;  as  well  as  to  the  rice-mill, 
and  other  implements  that  assist  her  in  her  household  labours.  A 
carpenter  does  the  like  homage  to  his  hatchet,  his  adze,  and  other 
tools ;  and  likewise  offers  sacrifices  to  them.  A  Brahman  does  so  to 
the  style  with  which  he  is  going  to  write ;  a  soldier  to  the  arms  he  is 
to  use  in  the  field;  a  mason  to  his  trowel." 

And  this  statement  of  Dubois,  quoted  by  Sir  John  Lub- 
bock,  coincides  with  that  of  Sir  A.  C.  Lyall,  who  says — 
"  Not  only  does  the  husbandman  pray  to  his  plough,  the 
fisher  to  his  net,  the  weaver  to  his  loom;  but  the  scribe 
adores  his  pen,  and  the  banker  his  account-books." 

How  untenable  is  the  idea  that  fetichism  comes  first 
among  superstitions,  will  now  be  manifest.  Suppose  the  facts 
reversed.  Suppose  that  by  Juangs,  Andamanese,  Fuegians, 
Australians,  Tasmanians,  and  Bushmen,  the  worship  of  in- 
animate objects  was  carried  to  the  greatest  extent;  that 
among  tribes  a  little  advanced  in  intelligence  and  social 
state,  it  was  somewhat  restricted;  that  it  went  on  decreas- 
ing as  knowledge  and  civilization  increased;  and  that  in 
highly-developed  societies,  such  as  those  of  ancient  Peru 
and  modern  India,  it  became  inconspicuous.  Should  we 
not  say  that  the  statement  was  conclusively  proved  ?  Clear- 
ly, then,  as  the  facts  happen  to  be  exactly  the  opposite,  the 
statement  is  conclusively  disproved. 

§  163.  Induction  having  shown  the  untruth  of  this  cur- 
rent dogma,  we  are  now  prepared  for  seeing  how  entirely 
deduction  discredits  it. 

Made  on  the  strength  of  evidence  given  by  early  travel- 
lers, whose  contact  was  chiefly  with  races  partially  advanced 
and  even  semi-civilized,  the  assertion  that  fetichism  is 
primordial  gained  possession  of  men's  minds;  and  prepos- 
session being  nine  points  of  belief,  it  has  held  its  ground  with 
scarcely  a  question.  I  had  myself  accepted  it;  though,  as 


IDOL-WORSHIP  AND  FETICH-WORSHIP.  335 

I  remember,  with  some  vague  dissatisfaction,  probably  aris- 
ing from  inability  to  see  how  so  strange  an  interpretation 
arose.  This  vague  dissatisfaction  passed  into  scepticism 
on  becoming  better  acquainted  with  the  ideas  of  savages. 
Tabulated  facts  presented  by  the  lowest  races,  changed 
scepticism  into  disbelief;  and  thought  has  made  it  manifest 
that  the  statement,  disproved  a  posteriori,  is  contrary  to  a 
prioj'i  probability. 

In  the  chapter  on  "  The  Ideas  of  the  Animate  and  In- 
animate," it  was  shown  that  progressing  intelligence  gives 
increasing  power  to  discriminate  the  living  from  the  not- 
living;  that  the  higher  animals  rarely  confound  the  one 
with  the  other;  and  that  to  suppose  the  animal  which  is 
far  above  the  rest  in  sagacity,  gratuitously  confuses  the  two, 
is  unwarrantable.  Were  the  fetichistic  conception  primor- 
dial, it  would  be  possible  to  show  how  the  evolution  of 
thought  necessitated  its  antecedence;  whereas  this,  so  far  as 
I  see,  is  impossible.  Consider  the  mind  of  the  savage  as 
delineated  in  foregoing  chapters — unspeculative,  uncritical, 
incapable  of  generalizing,  and  with  scarcely  any  notions 
save  those  yielded  by  the  perceptions.  Ask  what  could  lead 
him  to  think  of  an  inanimate  object  as  having  in  it  some 
existence  besides  that  which  his  senses  acquaint  him  with? 
He  has  no  words  for  separate  properties,  much  less  a  word 
for  property  in  general;  and  if  he  cannot  even  conceive  a 
property  apart  from  an  aggregate  displaying  it,  how  can  he 
imagine  a  second  invisible  entity  as  causing  the  actions  of 
the  visible  entity?  He  has  neither  that  tendency  to  think 
which  must  precede  such  a  conception,  nor  has  he  the  mental 
power  required  to  grasp  such  a  conception.  Only  as  the 
ghost-theory  evolves,  does  there  arise,  when  circumstances 
suggest  it,  this  idea  of  an  animate  agent  in  an  inanimate 
object.  ,1  say  advisedly — when  circumstances  suggest  it; 
for  at  first  he  does  not  gratuitously  assume  spiritual  posses- 
sion. Something  anomalous  is  requisite  to  suggest  the  pres- 
ence of  a  spirit.  And  if  afterwards,  in  higher  stages  of 
22 


326  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

progress,  he  extends  such  interpretations,  and  thinks  of  mul- 
titudinous thing's  as  possessed,  the  antecedent  is  an  accumula- 
tion of  ghosts  and  derived  spirits  swarming  everywhere. 

That  fetichism  is  a  sequence  of  the  ghost-theory  might, 
indeed,  be  suspected  from  the  evidence  which  our  own  peo- 
ple have  furnished,  and  still  furnish.  I  do  not  specially 
refer  to  the  still  extant  doctrine  of  the  real  presence;  nor 
to  the  belief  implied  by  the  obsolete  practice  of  exorcising 
the  water  used  in  baptism;  nor  to  the  conceptions  of  those 
who  in  past  times  thought  objects  which  behaved  strangely 
were  "  possessed,"  though  they  did  not  assume  possession  to 
account  for  the  ordinary  powers  of  objects.  I  refer  chiefly 
to  the  evidence  which  modern  spiritualists  yield  us.  If 
tables  turn  and  chairs  move  about  without  visible  agency, 
spirits  are  the  assumed  agents.  In  .presence  of  some  action 
not  understood,  there  is  a  revival  of  the  fetichistic  interpre- 
tation :  the  cause  is  a  supernatural  being,  and  this  supernat- 
ural being  is  a  ghost. 

§  164.  Propitiation  of  the  dead,  which,  originating  fu- 
neral rites,  develops  into  the  observances  constituting  wor- 
ship in  general,  has  thus,  among  its  other  divergent  results, 
idol-worship  and  fetich-worship.  All  stages  in  the  genesis 
of  these  are  traceable. 

There  are  sacrifices  to  the  recently-dead  body,  to  the 
dried  body  or  mummy,  to  the  relics;  there  are  sacrifices  to 
a  figure  made  partly  of  the  relics  and  partly  of  other  sub- 
stances ;  there  are  sacrifices  to  a  figure  placed  on  a  box  con- 
taining the  relics;  there  are  sacrifices  to  a  figure  placed  on 
the  grave  containing  the  remains.  And  as  thus  combined, 
the  remains  and  the  representative  figure  have  been  in  kin- 
dred ways  worshipped  by  civilized  races — Egyptians,  Etrus- 
cans, Romans,  down  to  mediaeval  Christians;  for  does  not 
the  adored  figure  of  a  saint  above  his  tomb,  undeniably  cor- 
respond to  the  carved  effigy  which  the  savage  places  on  a 
grave  and  propitiates?  That  this  representative 


IDOL-WORSHIP  AND  FETICH-WORSHIP.  32? 

image  of  the  dead  man  grows  into  the  idol  of  the  deity,  we 
have  good  evidence.  Persistent  for  various  periods,  the 
worship  becomes  in  some  cases  permanent;  and  then  con- 
stitutes the  idolatry  of  the  savage,  which  evolves  into  elab- 
orate religious  ceremonies  performed  before  awe-inspiring 
statues  in  magnificent  temples.  Further,  from 

the  primitive  notion  that  along  with  likeness  in  aspect  there 
goes  likeness  in  nature,  comes  a  belief  that  the  effigy  is  in- 
habited by  the  ghost;  and  from  this  there  descends  the  no- 
tion that  deities  enter  idols  and  occasionally  speak  from 
them. 

Between  id6l-worship  and  fetich-worship  there  is  no 
break.  In  Africa  the  visible  fetich  is  often  a  man-shaped 
figure,  sometimes  a  figure  less  like  a  man,  resembling 
"  nothing  so  much  as  one  of  our  scare-crows;  "  and  some- 
times a  thing  human  only  in  its  connexions,  having  the 
character  of  an  amulet:  the  faith  in  which,  as  we  saw 
(§  133),  grows  from  a  faith  in  relics,  and  therefore  arises 
from  the  ghost-theory.  That  the  worship  of  things 

which  are  strange  in  size,  shape,  aspect,  or  behaviour,  is 
derivative,  and  goes  along  with  belief  in  the  presence  of  a 
spirit  originally  human,  facts  make  clear.  This  extension 
accompanies  growth  and  elaboration  of  the  ghost-theory — 
occurs  where  ghosts  are  supposed  to  be  ever-present  causes 
of  diseases,  cures,  accidents,  benefits,  etc. ;  and  exhibits  the 
unchecked  application  of  an  hypothesis  which  seems  to  ex- 
plain everything.  Beliefs  thus  originating  are 
aided  by  the  idea  that  shadows  are  souls.  As  we  before 
saw  (§  9G),  this  idea  into  which  primitive  men  are  naturally 
betrayed,  they  extend  to  other  shadows  than  those  cast  by 
their  own  bodies.  Gradually  reason  forces  this  implication 
on  them;  and  acceptance  of  it  strengthens  those  concep- 
tions of  object-souls  otherwise  reached.  Proof 
that  the  thing  worshipped  in  the  remarkable  object  is  a 
ghost,  is  in  some  cases  joined  with  proof  that  it  is  an  ances- 
tral ghost.  The  huacas  of  the  Peruvians  were  their  fore- 


328  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

fathers.  Garcilasso  says  "  an  Indian  is  not  looked  upon 
as  honourable  unless  he  is  descended  from  a  fountain,  river, 
or  lake  (or  even  the  sea) ;  or  from  a  wild  animal,  such  as  a 
bear,  lion,  tiger,  eagle,  or  the  bird  they  call  cuntur  [condor] , 
or  some  other  bird  of  prey;  or  from  a  mountain,  cave,  or 
forest;  "  and  these  huacas  whence  they  descended,  they 
worshipped. 

That  idolatry  and  fetichism  are  aberrant  developments 
of  ancestor-worship,  thus  made  sufficiently  clear,  will  be- 
come clearer  still  on  passing  to  the  kindred  groups  of  facts 
which  now  follow. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ANIMAL-WORSHIP. 

§  165.  IN  the  chapter  on  "  Primitive  Ideas,"  it  was 
pointed  out  that  in  the  animal  kingdom  the  metamorphoses 
which  actually  occur,  are,  at  first  sight,  more  marvellous 
than  many  which  are  wrongly  supposed  to  occur — that  the 
contrasts  between  a  maggot  and  a  fly,  an  egg  and  a  bird, 
are  greater  than  the  contrasts  between  a  child  and  a  dog,  a 
man  and  a  bull. 

Encouraged,  then,  by  the  changes  he  daily  sees,  and  not 
deterred  by  such  cognitions  as  long-accumulating  experi- 
ences establish,  the  savage  yields  to  any  suggestion,  how- 
ever caused,  that  a  creature  has  assumed  a  different  shape. 
In  some  cases  the  supposed  change  is  from  one  of  the  lower 
animals  into  another;  as  in  Brazil,  where,  Burton  says,  "  the 
people  universally  believe  that  the  humming-bird  is  trans- 
mutable  into  the  humming-bird  hawk-moth."  But  mostly, 
the  transformations  are  of  men  into  animals,  or  of  animals 
into  men. 

All  races  furnish  evidence.  We  will  first  take  a  number 
of  examples,  and  then  consider  the  interpretations. 

§  166.  The  belief  that  human  beings  disguise  them- 
selves as  brutes,  is  in  some  cases  specified  generally;  as  con- 
cerning the  Thlinkeets,  who  "  will  kill  a  bear  only  in  case 
of  great  necessity,  for  the  bear  is  supposed  to  be  a  man  that 

has  taken  the  shape  of  an  animal."    And  the  converse  idea 

329 


330  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

in  its  general  form  occurs  among  the  Karens,  who  think 
"  the  waters  are  inhabited  by  beings  whose  proper  form  is 
that  of  dragons  [  ?  crocodiles] ,  but  that  occasionally  appear 
as  men,  and  who  take  wives  of  the  children  of  men."  Usu- 
ally, however,  only  persons  distinguished  by  power  of  some 
kind,  or  believed  to  be  so,  have  this  ability  ascribed  to  them. 
Regarding  all  special  skill  as  supernatural,  sundry  Afri- 
can peoples  think  the  blacksmith  (who  ranks  next  to  the 
medicine-man)  works  by  spirit-agency;  and  in  Abyssinia, 
"  blacksmiths  are  supposed  able  to  turn  themselves  into  hy- 
fenas  and  other  animals."  So  strong  is  this  belief  that  it 
infects  even  European  residents:  Wilkinson  instances  a 
traveller  who  asserted  that  he  had  seen  the  metamor- 
phosis. More  commonly  it  is  the  sorcerers  exclu- 
sively of  whom  this  power  is  alleged.  The  Khonds  believe 
"  witches  have  the  faculty  of  transforming  themselves  into 
tigers."  In  case  of  "  an  alligator  seizing  upon  a  child  whilst 
bathing  in  the  river,  or  a  leopard  carrying  off  a  goat,"  the 
Bulloms  "  are  of  opinion  that  it  is  not  a  real  leopard  or 
alligator  which  has  committed  the  depredation,  but  a  witch 
under  one  of  these  assumed  forms."  Among  the  Mexicans 
"  there  were  sorcerers  and  witches  who  were  thought  to 
transform  themselves  into  animals."  In  Honduras  they 
"  punish  sorcerers  that  did  mischief;  and  some  of  them  are 
said  to  have  ranged  on  the  mountains  like  tigers  or  lions, 
killing  men,  till  they  were  taken  and  hanged."  And  the 
Chibehas  "  pretended  to  have  great  sorcerers  who  might  be 
transformed  into  lions,  bears,  and  tigers,  and  devour  men 
like  these  animals."  To  chiefs,  as  well  as  to  sor- 
cerers, this  faculty  is  in  some  places  ascribed.  The  Cacique 
Thomagata,  one  of  the  Chibcha  rulers,  was  believed  "  to 
have  had  a  long  tail,  after  the  manner  of  a  lion  or  a  tiger, 
which  he  dragged  on  the  soil."  Africa,  too,  yields  evi- 
dence. 

"There  are  also  a  great  many  lions  and  hya?nas.  and  there  is  no 
check  upon  the  increase  of  the  former,  for  the  people,  believing  that 


ANIMAL- WORSHIP.  331 

the  souls  of  their  chiefs  enter  into  them,  never  attempt  to  kill  them; 
they  even  believe  that  a  chief  may  metamorphose  himself  into  a  lion, 
kill  any  one  he  chooses,  and  then  return  to  the  human  form ;  there- 
fore, when  they  see  one  they  commence  clapping  their  hands,  which 
is  the  usual  mode  of  salutation/' 

In  some  cases  this  supposed  power  is  shared  by  the  chief's 
relatives.  Schweinfurth,  when  at  Gallabat,  having  shot  a 
hyaena,  was  reproached  by  the  sheikh  because  his,  the 
sheikh's,  mother,  was  a  "  hyaena-woman." 

Instead  of  change  of  form  there  is,  in  other  cases,  pos- 
session. We  saw  how  the  primitive  dream-theory,  with  its 
wandering  double  which  deserts  the  body  and  re-enters  it, 
brings,  among  many  sequences,  the  belief  that  wandering 
doubles  can  enter  other  bodies  than  their  own ;  and  the  last 
chapter  exhibited  some  wide  extensions  of  this  doctrine: 
representative  figures,  and  even  inanimate  objects  not  hav~ 
ing  human  shapes,  being  supposed  permeable  by  human 
ghosts.  Naturally,  then,  animals  are  included  among  the 
things  men's  souls  go  into.  At  Tete,  in  Africa,  the  people 
believe  "  that  while  persons  are  still  living  they  may  enter 
into  lions  and  alligators,  and  then  return  again  to  their  own 
bodies;  "  and  the  Guiana  tribes  think  some  jaguars  "are 
possessed  by  the  spirits  of  men." 

Of  course,  along  with  beliefs  in  possession  by  the  doubles 
of  living  persons,  there  go  beliefs  in  possession  by  the 
doubles  of  dead  persons.  The  Sumatrans  imagine  that — 
"tigers  in  general  are  actuated  with  the  spirits  of  departed  men,  and 
no  consideration  will  prevail  on  a  countryman  to  catch  or  to  wound 
one,  but  in  self-defence,  or  immediately  after  the  act  of  destroying  a 
friend." 

Among  existing  American  races,  the  Apaches  "  hold  that 
every  rattlesnake  contains  the  soul  of  a  bad  man  or  is  an 
emissary  of  the  Evil  Spirit;  "  and  "  the  Calif ornians  round 
San  Diego  will  not  eat  the  flesh  of  large  game,  believing 
such  animals  are  inhabited  by  the  souls  of  generations  of 
people  that  have  died  ages  ago :  '  eater  of  venison !  '  is  a 
term  of  reproach  among  them."  "With  the  ancient  Ameri- 


332  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

can  races  it  was  the  same.  Here  is  one  out  of  many  in- 
stances. 

"  The  people  of  Tlascala  believed  that  the  souls  of  persons  of  rank 
went,  after  their  death,  to  inhabit  the  bodies  of  beautiful  and  sweet 
singing  birds,  and  those  of  the  nobler  quadrupeds ;  while  the  souls  of 
inferior  persons  were  supposed  to  pass  into  weazles,  beetles,"  etc. 

There  are  like  beliefs  among  Africans.  When  Hutchinson 
doubted  the  assertion  that  men's  souls  pass  into  monkeys 
and  crocodiles,  he  was  answered — "  It  be  Kalabar  '  fash/ 
and  white  man  no  saby  any  ting  about  it." 

Passing  over  various  developments  of  this  general  notion 
which  early  civilizations  show  us,  such  as  the  Scripture 
story  of  the  expelled  devils  who  entered  into  swine,  and  the 
were-wolf  legends  of  the  middle  ages;  let  us  turn  to  the 
interpretations.  We  have  seen  that  his  experiences  prepare 
the  savage  for  supposing  metamorphoses,  if  circumstances 
suggest  them ;  but  we  must  not  assume  him  to  suppose  them 
without  suggestive  circumstances.  What,  then,  are  these? 
We  shall  find  three  kinds ;  leading  to  three  groups  of  allied, 
but  partially-different,  beliefs. 

§  167.  "  There  are  Amatongo  who  are  snakes,"  say  the 
Zulus;  and,  as  we  have  repeatedly  seen,  Amatongo  is  their 
name  for  ancestral  ghosts.  But  why  do  these  people  think 
that  snakes  are  transformed  ancestors?  Some  extracts  from 
Bp.  Callaway's  cross-examination,  I  place  in  an  order  which 
will  prepare  the  reader  for  the  answer. 

"The  snakes  into  which  men  turn  are  not  many;  they  are  distinct 
and  well  known.  They  are  the  black  Imamba,  and  the  green  Imam- 
ba,  which  is  called  Inyandezulu.  Chiefs  turn  into  these.  Common 
people  turn  into  the  Umthlwazi." 

"  These  snakes  are  known  to  be  human  beings  when  they  enter  a 
hut ;  they  do  not  usually  enter  by  the  doorway.  Perhaps  they  enter 
when  no  one  is  there,  and  go  to  the  upper  part  of  the  hut,  and  stay 
there  coiled  up." 

"If  the  snake  has  a  scar  on  the  side,  some  one  who  knew  a  cer- 
tain dead  man  of  that  place  who  also  had  such  a  scar,  comes  forward 


ANIMAL-WORSHIP.  333 

and  says,  '  It  is  So-ind-so.  Do  you  not  see  the  scar  on  his  side  ? '  It 
is  left  alone,  and  they  go  to  sleep." 

"Those  which  are  men  are  known  by  their  frequenting  huts,  and 
by  their  not  eating  mice,  and  by  their  not  being  frightened  at  the 
noise  of  men." 

Now  join  with  these  statements  the  facts  set  forth  in 
§§  110,  137,  and  the  genesis  of  this  belief  becomes  manifest. 
All  over  the  world  there  prevails  the  idea  that  the  ghost  of 
the  dead  man  haunts  the  old  home.  What,  then,  is  meant 
by  the  coming  of  these  snakes  into  the  huts?  Are  they  not 
returned  relations?  Do  not  the  individual  marks  they  some- 
times bear  yield  proof?  Just  as  an  Australian  settler  who 
had  a  bent  arm,  was  concluded  to  be  the  other-self  of  a  dead 
native  who  had  a  bent  arm  (§  92) ;  so  here,  the  scar  common 
to  the  man  and  the  snake  proves  identity.  When,  therefore, 
the  Zulus  say — "  [Neither  does  a  snake  that  is  an  Itongo 
excite  fear  in  men.  .  .  .  When  men  see  it,  it  is  as  though  it 
said  as  they  look  at  it,  '  Be  not  afraid.  It  is  I ' ;  "  we  are 
shown  that  recognition  of  the  snake  as  a  human  being,  come 
back  in  another  shape,  is  suggested  by  several  circumstances: 
frequentation  of  the  house  being  the  chief.  This 

recognition  is  utilized  and  confirmed  by  the  diviners.  Some 
persons  who,  through  them,  sought  supernatural  aid,  re- 
marked— "  We  wondered  that  we  should  continually  hear 
the  spirits,  which  we  could  not  see,  speaking  in  the  wattles, 
and  telling  us  many  things  without  our  seeing  them."  Else- 
where a  man  says — "  The  voice  was  like  that  of  a  very  little 
child ;  it  cannot  speak  aloud,  for  it  speaks  above,  among  the 
wattles  of  the  hut."  The  trick  is  obvious.  Practising  ven- 
triloquism, the  diviner  makes  the  replies  of  the  ancestral 
ghost  seem  to  come  from  places  in  which  these  house-haunt- 
ing snakes  conceal  themselves. 

Though  most  men  are  supposed  to  turn  into  the  harmless 
snakes  which  frequent  huts,  some  turn  into  the  "  imamba 
which  frequents  open  places."  "  The  imamba  is  said  espe- 
cially to  be  chiefs;  "  it  is  "  a  poisonous  snake,"  and  has  "  the 
stare  of  an  enemy,  which  makes  one  afraid."  Whence  it 


334  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

appears  that  as  special  bodily  marks  suggest  identity  with 
persons  who  bore  kindred  marks,  so  traits  of  character  in 
snakes  of  a  certain  species,  lead  to  identification  with  a  class 
of  persons.  This  conclusion  we  shall  presently  find  verified 
by  facts  coming  from  another  place  in  Africa. 

Among  the  Amazulu,  belief  in  the  return  of  ancestors 
disguised  as  serpents,  has  not  led  to  worship  of  serpents  as 
such:  propitiation  of  them  is  mingled  with  propitiation  of 
ancestral  ghosts  in  an  indefinite  way.  Other  peoples,  too, 
present  us  with  kindred  ideas,  probably  generated  in  like 
manner,  which  have  not  assumed  distinctly  religious  forms; 
as  witness  the  fact  that  "  in  the  province  of  Culiacan  tamed 
serpents  were  found  in  the  dwellings  of  the  natives,  which 
they  feared  and  venerated."  But,  carrying  with  us  the  clue 
thus  given,  we  find  that  along  with  a  developed  cult  and 
advanced  arts,  a  definite  serpent-worship  results.  Ophiola- 
try prevails  especially  in  hot  countries;  and  in  hot  countries 
certain  kinds  of  ophidia  secrete  themselves  in  dark  corners 
of  rooms,  and  even  in  beds.  India  supplies  us  with  a  clear 
case.  Serpent-gods  are  there  common;  and  the  serpent 
habitually  sculptured  as  a  god,  is  the  cobra.  Either  in  its 
natural  form  or  united  to  a  human  body,  the  cobra  with  ex- 
panded hood  in  attitude  to  strike,  is  adored  in  numerous  tem- 
ples. And  then,  on  inquiry,  we  learn  that  the  cobra  is  one 
of  the  commonest  intruders  in  houses.  Yet  another  instance 
is  furnished  by  the  Egyptian  asp,  a  species  of  cobra.  Figur- 
ing everywhere  as  this  does  in  their  sacred  paintings  and 
sculptures,  we  find  that,  greatly  reverenced  throughout 
Egypt,  it  was  a  frequenter  of  gardens  and  houses,  and  was 
so  far  domesticated  that  it  came  at  a  signal  to  be  fed  from 
the  table.* 

*  Since  writing  the  above  I  have  re-read  Mr.  M'Lennan's  essay  on  Animal- 
worship,  and  in  it  find  a  fact  which  confirms  my  view.  I  have  italicized  the 
significant  words : — "  To  support  the  superstition  there  are  two  articles  in  the 
treaty  made  and  sanctioned  by  Her  Britannic  Majesty's  Consul  for  the  Bight 
of  Biafra  and  the  Island  of  Fernando  Po,  on  November  17,  1856,  one  of  which 


ANIMAL-WORSHIP.  335 

The  like  happens  with  other  house-haunting  creatures. 
In  many  countries  lizards  are  often  found  indoors;  and 
among  the  Amazulu,  the  "  Isalukazana,  a  kind  of  lizard," 
is  the  form  supposed  to  be  taken  by  old  women.  The  New 
Zealanders  believe  that  the  spirits  of  their  ancestors  re-visit 
them  as  lizards;  and  I  learn  from  a  colonist  that  these  are 
lizards  which  enter  houses.  Certain  Russian  foresters, 
again,  "  cherish,  as  a  kind  of  household  gods,  a  species  of 
reptile,  which  has  four  short  feet  like  a  lizard,  with  a  black 
flat  body.  .  .  .  These  animals  are  called  *  givoites,'  and  on 
certain  days  are  allowed  to  crawl  about  the  house  in  search 
of  the  food  which  is  placed  for  them.  They  are  looked  upon 
with  great  superstition."  Then,  too,  we  have  the 

wasp,  which  is  one  of  the  animal-shapes  supposed  to  be  as- 
sumed by  the  dead  among  the  Amazulu;  and  the  wasp  is 
an  insect  which  often  joins  the  domestic  circle  to  share  the 
food  on  the  table.  Alongside  this  belief  I  may  place  a  curi- 
ous passage  from  the  flood-legend  of  the  Babylonians.  Hasi- 
sadra,  describing  his  sacrifice  after  the  deluge,  says — "  The 
gods  collected  at  its  burning,  the  gods  collected  at  its  good 
burning;  the  gods,  like  flies,  over  the  sacrifice  gath- 
ered." Once  more,  of  house-haunting  creatures 
similarly  regarded,  we  have  the  dove.  Describing  animal- 
worship  among  the  ancients,  Mr.  M'Lennan  remarks  that 
"  the  dove,  in  fact  .  .  .  was  almost  as  great  a  god  as  the 
serpent."  The  still-extant  symbolism  of  Christianity  shows 
us  the  surviving  effect  of  this  belief  in  the  ghostly  character 
6f  the  dove. 

§  168.  By  most  peoples  the  ghost  is  believed  now  to  re- 
visit the  old  home,  and  now  to  be  where  the  body  lies.  If, 

runs  thus: — 'Article  12.  That  long  detention  having  heretofore  occurred 
in  trade,  and  much  angry  feeling  having  been  excited  in  the  natives  from 
the  destruction  by  white  men,  in  their  ignorance,  of  a  certain  species  of  boa- 
constrictor  that  visits  tJie  Aowsea,  and  which  is  ju-ju,  or  sacred,  to  the  Brass- 
men,  it  is  hereby  forbidden  to  all  British  subjects  to  harm  or  destroy  any 
such  snake.' " 


THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

then,  creatures  which  frequent  houses  are  supposed  to  be 
metamorphosed  ancestors,  will  not  creatures  habitually 
found  with  corpses  be  also  considered  as  animal-forms  as- 
sumed by  the  dead  ?  That  they  will,  we  may  conclude;  and 
that  they  are,  we  have  proofs. 

The  prevalence  of  cave-burial  among  early  peoples 
everywhere,  has  been  shown.  What  animals  commonly 
occur  in  caves?  Above  all  others,  those  which  shun  the 
light — bats  and  owls.  Where  there  are  no  hollow  trees, 
crevices  and  caverns  are  the  most  available  places  for  these 
night-flying  creatures;  and  often  in  such  places  they  are 
numerous.  An  explorer  of  the  Egyptian  cave  known  from 
its  embalmed  contents  as  "  Crocodilopolis,"  tells  me  that  he 
was  nearly  suffocated  with  the  dust  raised  by  bats,  the 
swarms  of  which  nearly  put  out  the  torches.  Now  join  with 
these  statements  the  following  passage  from  the  Izdubar 
legend  translated  by  Mr.  Smith: — 

"Return  me  from  Hades,  the  land  of  my  knowledge;  from  the 
house  of  the  departed,  the  seat  of  the  god  Irkalla;  from  the  house 
within  which  is  no  exit ;  from  the  road  the  course  of  which  never  re- 
turns ;  from  the  place  within  which  they  long  for  light — the  place 
where  dust  is  their  nourishment  and  their  food  mud.  Its  chiefs  also, 
like  birds,  are  clothed  with  wings." 

In  Mr.  Talbot's  rendering  of  the  legend  of  the  descent  of 
Ishtar,  Hades,  described  as  "  a  cavern  of  great  rocks,"  is 
again  said  to  be  "  the  abode  of  darkness  and  famine,  where 
earth  is  their  food:  their  nourishment  clay:  light  is  not 
seen :  in  darkness  they  dwell :  ghosts,  like  birds,  flutter  their 
wings."  Amid  minor  differences,  the  agreement  respecting 
the  cavernous  nature  of  the  place,  its  gloom,  its  lack  of  food, 
its  dust,  and  the  winged  structure  of  its  inhabitants,  clearly 
points  to  the  development  of  the  burial-cave  with  its  tenant- 
ing creatures,  into  Hades  with  its  inhabiting  spirits.  In  the 
same  way  that,  as  we  before  saw,  Sheol,  primarily  a  cave, 
expanded  into  an  under-world;  so  here  we  see  that  the 
winged  creatures  habitually  found  along  with  the  corpses  in 
the  cave,  and  supposed  to  be  the  transformed  dead,  origi- 


ANIMAL-WORSHIP.  337 

nated  the  winged  ghosts  who  inhabit  the  under-world. 
Verification  is  yielded  by  an  already-quoted  passage  from 
the  Bible,  in  which  sorcerers  are  said  to  chirp  like  bats  when 
consulting  the  dead:  the  explanation  being  that  their  arts, 
akin  to  those  of  the  Zulu  diviners  lately  named,  had  a  like 
aim.  The  ventriloquists,  says  Delitzsch,  "  imitated  the 
chirping  of  bats,  which  was  supposed  to  proceed  from  the 
shades  of  Hades."  Further  verification  comes  to  us  from 
the  legends  of  the  Greeks.  The  spirits  of  the  dead  are  said 
in  the  Odyssey  to  twitter  like  bats  and  clamour  "  as  it  were 
fowls  flying  every  way  in  fear."  The  far  East  yields  con- 
firmatory evidence.  In  past  times  the  Philippine  Islanders 
had  the  ideas  and  customs  of  ancestor-worship  highly  de- 
veloped; and  they  buried  in  caves,  which  were  held  sacred. 
Mr.  Jagor  narrates  his  visit  to  a  cavern  "  tenanted  by  mul- 
titudes of  bats."  The  few  natives  who  dared  enter,  "  were 
in  a  state  of  great  agitation,  and  were  careful  first  to  enjoin 
upon  each  other  the  respect  to  be  observed  by  them  towards 
Calapnitan" — literally  "  lord  of  the  bats." 

The  experience  that  bats  are  commonly  found  in  caves, 
while  owls  more  generally  frequent  the  dark  corners  of  de- 
serted houses,  may  have  tended  to  differentiate  the  associ- 
ated conceptions.  ''  Mother  of  ruins  "  is  an  Arabian  name 
for  the  owl.  Mr.  Talbot,  in  translations  embodying  the  re- 
ligious beliefs  of  the  Assyrians,  has  the  following  prayer 
uttered  on  a  man's  death: — "  Like  a  bird  may  it  [the  soul] 
fly  to  a  lofty  place!  "  With  this  we  may  join  the  fact  that, 
in  common  with  modern  Arabs,  their  ancient  kindred  pre- 
ferred to  bury  in  high  places.  We  may  also  join  with  it 
the  following  passage  from  M.  Caussin  de  Perceval:— 

"In  their  opinion  the  soul,  when  leaving  the  body,  fled  away  in 
the  form  of  a  bird  which  they  called  Hdma  or  Soda  (a  sort  of  owl), 
and  did  not  cease  flying  round  the  tomb  and  crying  pitifully." 
The  Egyptians  also,  along  with  familiar  knowledge  of  these 
cave-hiding  and  ruin-haunting  creatures,  had  a  belief  in 
winged  souls.  One  of  their  wall-paintings  given  by  Wilkin- 


338  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

son,  represents,  over  the  face  of  a  corpse,  a  human-headed 
bird  about  to  fly  away,  carrying  with  it  the  sign  of  life  and 
the  symbol  of  transmigration.  Moreover,  on  their  mummy 
cases  they  figured  either  a  bird  with  out-stretched  wings,  or 
such  a  bird  with  a  human  head,  or  a  winged  symbol.  Thus 
it  seems  likely  that  by  them,  too,  the  creatures  often  found 
in  the  places  of  the  dead  were  supposed  to  be  forms  as- 
sumed by  the  dead. 

Possibly  these  ancient  peoples  had  not  enough  knowl- 
edge of  insect  metamorphoses  to  be  struck  by  the  illusive 
analogy  on  which  modern  theologians  dwell ;  but,  if  they 
observed  them,  one  kind  must  have  seemed  to  furnish  a  com- 
plete parallel.  I  refer  to  that  of  various  moths:  the  larva 
buries  itself  in  the  earth,  and  after  a  time  there  is  found  near 
the  chrysalis-case  a  winged  creature.  Why,  then,  should 
not  the  winged  creature  found  along  with  the  human  body 
which  has  been  buried  in  a  cave,  be  concluded  to  have  come 
out  of  it?  * 

§  169.  Before  dealing  with  supposed  transformations  of 
a  third  kind,  like  the  above  as  identifying  animals  with  de- 
ceased men,  but  unlike  them  as  being  otherwise  suggested, 
two  explanatory  descriptions  are  needed:  one  of  primitive 
language  and  the  other  of  primitive  naming. 

The  savage  has  a  small  vocabulary.  Consequently  of, 
the  things  and  acts  around,  either  but  few  can  have  signs, 
or  those  signs  must  be  indiscriminately  applicable  to  differ- 
ent things  and  acts:  whence  inevitable  misunderstandings. 
If,  as  Burton  says  of  the  Dacotahs,  "  colours  are  expressed 
by  a  comparison  with  some  object  in  sight,"  an  intended 

*  As,  originally,  ghosts  were  indiscriminately  spoken  of  as  gods,  demons, 
angels ;  and  as  the  differentiation  which  eventually  arose  was  naturally  ac- 
companied by  specialized  beliefs  respecting  these  flying  forms  assumed  by 
them ;  it  seems  not  improbable  that  while  from  the  owl  with  its  feathered 
wings,  living  in  the  upper  air,  came  the  conception  of  the  good  spirit  or  angel, 
there  came  from  the  bat  with  its  membranous  wings,  inhabiting  underground 
places,  the  conception  of  the  bad  spirit  or  devil. 


ANIMAL-WORSHIP.  339 

assertion  about  a  colour  must,  of  ten  be  taken  for  an  assertion 
about  the  illustrative  object.  If,  as  Schweinfurth  tells 
us  of  the  Bongo  dialect,  one  word  means  either  "  shadow  " 
or  "  cloud,"  another  "  rain "  or  "  the  sky,"  another 
"night"  or  "to-day;"  the  interpretations  of  statements 
must  be  in  part  guessed  at,  and  the  guesses  must  often  be 
wrong.  Indefiniteness,  implied  by  this  paucity  of 

words,  is  further  implied  by  the  want  of  terms  expressing 
degree.  A  Damara  cannot  understand  the  question  whether 
of  two  stages  the  next  is  longer  than  the  last.  The  question 
must  be — "  The  last  stage  is  little;  the  next,  is  it  great?  " 
and  the  only  reply  is — "  It  is  so,"  or  "  It  is  not  so."  In 
some  cases,  as  among  the  Abipones,  superlatives  are  ex- 
pressed by  raising  the  voice.  And  then  the  uncertainties  of 
meaning  which  such  indefinitenesses  cause,  are  made  greater 
by  the  rapid  changes  in  primitive  dialects.  Superstitions 
lead  to  frequent  substitutions  of  new  words  for  those 
previously  in  use;  and  hence  statements  current  in  one 
generation,  otherwise  expressed  in  the  next,  are  miscon- 
strued. Incoherence  adds  to  the  confusion.  In 
the  aboriginal  languages  of  South  Brazil,  "  there  are  no 
such  things  as  declensions  and  conjugations,  and  still  less 
a  regular  construction  of  the  sentences.  They  always  speak 
in  the  infinitive,  with,  or  mostly  without,  pronouns  or  sub- 
stantives. The  accent,  which  is  chiefly  on  the  second  sylla- 
ble, the  slowness  or  quickness  of  pronunciation,  certain  signs 
with  the  hand,  the  mouth,  or  other  gestures,  are  necessary 
to  complete  the  sense  of  the  sentence.  If  the  Indian,  for 
instance,  means  to  say,  '  I  will  go  into  the  wood,'  he  says 
'  Wood-go : '  pushing  out  his  mouth  to  indicate  the  quarter 
which  he  intends  to  visit."  Clearly,  no  propositions  that 
involve  even  moderate  degrees  of  discrimination,  can  be 
communicated  by  such  people.  The  relative  homo- 
geneity of  early  speech,  thus  implied  by  the  absence  of 
modifying  terminations  to  words  or  the  auxiliaries  serving 
in  place  of  them,  is  further  implied  by  the  absence  of  gen- 


340  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

eral  and  abstract  words.  Even  the  first  grades  of  generality 
and  abstractness  are  inexpressible.  Both  the  Abipones  and 
the  Guaranis  "  want  the  verb  substantive  to  be.  They  want 
the  verb  to  have.  They  have  no  words  whereby  to  express 
man,  body,  God,  place,  time,  never,  ever,  everywhere." 
Similarly,  the  Koossa  language  has  "  no  proper  article,  no 
auxiliary  verbs,  no  inflections  either  of  their  verbs  or  sub- 
stantives. .  .  .  The  simple  abstract  proposition,  /  am,  can- 
not be  expressed  in  their  language." 

Having  these  a  posteriori  verifications  of  the  a  priori 
inference,  that  early  speech  is  meagre,  incoherent,  indefi- 
nite, we  may  anticipate  countless  erroneous  beliefs  caused 
by  misapprehensions.  Dobrizhoffer  says  that  among  the 
Guaranis,  "Aba  eke  has  three  meanings — I  am  a  Guarani, 
I  am  a  man,  or  I  am  a  husband  /  which  of  these  is  meant 
must  be  gathered  from  the  tenor  of  the  conversation."  On 
asking  ourselves  what  will  happen  with  traditions  narrated 
in  such  speech,  we  must  answer  that  the  distortions  will  be 
extreme  and  multitudinous. 

§  170.  Proper  names  were  not  always  possessed  by  men: 
they  are  growths.  It  never  occurred  to  the  uninventive 
savage  to  distinguish  this  person  from  that  by  vocal  marks. 
An  individual  was  at  first  signified  by  something  connected 
with  him,  which,  when  mentioned,  called  him  to  mind — an 
incident,  a  juxta-position,  a  personal  trait. 

A  descriptive  name  is  commonly  assumed  to  be  the  earli- 
est. We  suppose  that  just  as  objects  and  places  in  our  own 
island  acquire  their  names  by  the  establishment  of  what  was 
originally  an  impromptu  description;  so,  names  of  savages, 
such  as  "  Broad  face,"  "  Head  without  hair,"  "  Curly  head," 
"  Horse-tail,"  are  the  significant  sobriquets  with  which  nam- 
ing begins.  But  it  is  not  so.  Under  pressure  of  the  need 
for  indicating  a  child  while  yet  it  has  no  peculiarities,  it  is 
referred  to  in  connexion  with  some  circumstance  attending 
its  birth.  The  Lower  Murray  Australians  derive  their 


ANIMAL-Y/ORSHIP.  341 

names  either  from  some  trivial  occurrence,  from  the  spot 
where  they  were  born,  or  from  a  natural  object  seen  by  the 
mother  soon  after  the  birth  of  the^child.  This  is  typical. 
Damara  "  children  are  named  after  great  public  incidents." 
"  Most  Bodo  and  Dhim&ls  bear  meaningless  designations, 
or  any  passing  event  of  the  moment  may  suggest  a  signifi- 
cant term."  The  name  given  to  a  Kaffir  child  soon  after 
birth,  "  usually  refers  to  some  circumstance  connected  with 
that  event,  or  happening  about  the  same  time."  Among 
the  Comanches,  "  the  children  are  named  from  some  circum- 
stance in  tender  years;  "  and  the  names  of  the  Chippewayan 
boys  are  "  generally  derived  from  some  place,  season,  or  ani- 
mal." Even  with  so  superior  a  type  as  the  Bedouins,  the 
like  happens:  "  a  name  is  given  to  the  infant  immediately 
on  his  birth.  The  name  is  derived  from  some  trifling  acci- 
dent, or  from  some  object  which  has  struck  the  fancy  of  the 
mother  or  any  of  the  women  present  at  the  child's  birth. 
Thus,  if  the  dog  happened  to  be  near  on  this  occasion,  the 
infant  is  probably  named  Kelab  (from  JTclb,  a  dog)." 

This  vague  mode  of  identification,  which  arises  first  in 
the  history  of  the  race,  and  long  survives  as  a  birth-naming, 
is  by-and-by  habitually  followed  by  a  re-naming  of  a  more 
specific  kind:  a  personal  trait  that  becomes  decided  in  the 
course  of  growth,  a  strange  accident,  or  a  remarkable 
achievement,  furnishing  the  second  name.  Among  the  peo- 
ples above  mentioned,  the  Comanches,  the  Damaras,  the 
Kaffirs  illustrate  this.  Speaking  of  the  Kaffirs,  Mann  says — 
"  Thus  '  ITmgodi '  is  simply  '  the  boy  who  was  born  in  a 
hole/  That  is  a  birth  name.  '  Umginqisago  '  is  '  the  hunter 
who  made  the  game  roll  over.'  That  is  a  name  of  renown." 
Omitting  multitudinous  illustrations,  let  us  note  some  which 
immediately  concern  us.  Of  the  additional 'names 

gained  by  the  Tupis  after  successes  in  battle,  we  read — 
"  They  selected  their  appellations  from  visible  objects,  pride 
or  ferocity  influencing  their  choice :  "  whence  obviously  re- 
sults naming  after  savage  animals.  Among  animal-names 


342  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

used  by  the  Karens  are — '  Tiger/  (  Yellow-Tiger/  '  Fierce- 
Tiger/  <  Gaur,'  *  Goat-antelope,'  '  Horn-bill/  <  Heron,' 
'  Prince-bird,'  and  l  Mango-fish :  '  the  preference  for  the 
formidable  beast  being  obvious.  In  ~New  Zealand  a  native 
swift  of  foot  is  called  i  Kawaw,'  a  bird  or  fowl;  and  the 
Dacotah  women  have  such  names  as  the  *  White  Martin,' 
the  '  Young  Mink,'  the  '  Musk-rat's  Paw.'  All  over  the 
world  this  nicknaming  after  animals  is  habitual.  lender 
speaks  of  it  among  the  Yorubans;  Thunberg,  among  the 
Hottentots ;  and  that  it  prevails  throughout  North  America 
every  one  knows.  As  implied  in  cases  above  given, 

self -exaltation  is  sometimes  the  cause,  and  sometimes  exalta- 
tion by  others.  When  a  Makololo  chief  arrives  at  a  village, 
the  people  salute  him  with  the  title,  '  Great  Lion.'  King 
Koffi's  attendants  exclaim — "  Look  before  thee,  O  Lion." 
In  the  Harris  papyrus,  King  Mencheper-ra  (Tothmes  III) 
is  called  '  the  Furious  Lion ;  '  and  the  name  of  one  of  the 
kings  of  the  second  Egyptian  dynasty,  Kakau,  means  "  the 
bull  of  bulls."  In  early  Assyrian  inscriptions  we  read — 
"  Like  a  bull  thou  shalt  rule  over  the  chiefs :  "  a  simile 
which,  as  is  shown  in  another  case,  readily  passes  into  meta- 
phor. Thus  in  the  third  Sallier  papyrus  it  is  said  of  Rameses 
— ("  As  a  bull,  terrible  with  pointed  horns  he  rose;  "  and 
then  in  a  subsequent  passage  the  defeated  address  him — 
"  Horus,  conquering  bull." 

Remembering  that  this  habit  survives  among  ourselves, 
so  that  the  cunning  person  is  called  a  fox,  the  rude  a  bear, 
the  hypocritical  a  crocodile,  the  dirty  a  pig,  the  keen  a  hawk, 
and  so  on — observing  that  in  those  ancient  races  who  had 
proper  names  of  a  developed  kind,  animal-nicknaming  still 
prevailed;  let  us  ask  what  resulted  from  it  in  the  earliest 
stages." 

§  171.  Verbal  signs  being  at  first  so  inadequate  that  ges- 
ture-signs are  needful  to  eke  them  out,  the  distinction  be- 
tween metaphor  and  fact  cannot  be  expressed,  much  less 


ANIMAL-WORSHIP.  343 

preserved  in  tradition.  If,  as  shown  by  instances  Mr.  Tylor 
gives,  even  the  higher  races  confound  the  metaphorical  with 
the  literal — if  the  statement  in  the  Koran  that  God  opened 
and  cleansed  Mahomet's  heart,  originates  a  belief  that  his 
heart  was  actually  taken  out,  washed,  and  replaced — if  from 
accounts  of  tribes  without  governors,  described  as  without 
heads,  there  has  arisen  among  civilized  people  the  belief  that 
there  are  races  of  headless  men;  we  cannot  wonder  if  the 
savage,  lacking  knowledge  and  speaking  a  rude  language, 
gets  the  idea  that  an  ancestor  named  "  the  Tiger  "  was  an 
actual  tiger.  From  childhood  upwards  he  hears  his  father's 
father  spoken  of  by  this  name.  !N\>  one  suspects  he  will  mis- 
interpret it :  error  being,  indeed,  a  general  notion  the  savage 
has  scarcely  reached.  And  there  are  no  words  serving  to 
convey  a  correction,  even  if  the  need  is  perceived.  In- 
evitably, then,  he  grows  up  believing  that  his  father  de- 
scended from  a  tiger — thinking  of  himself  as  one  of  the 
tiger  stock.  Everywhere  the  results  of  such  mistakes 
meet  us. 

"  A  characteristic  feature  in  Central  Asiatic  traditions," 
say  the  Michells,  "  is  the  derivation  of  their  origin  from  some 
animal."  According  to  Brooke,  the  Sea-Dyaks  shrink  super- 
stitiously  from  eating  certain  animals;  because  "  they  sup- 
pose these  animals  bear  a  proximity  to  some  of  their  fore- 
fathers, who  were  begotten  by  them  or  begot  them." 
Among  the  Bechuana  tribes  "the  term  Bakatla  means, '  they 
of  the  monkey ;  '  Bakuena, '  they  of  the  alligator; '  Batldpi, 
'  they  of  the  fish:  '  each  tribe  having  a  superstitious  dread 
of  the  animal  after  which  it  is  called."  The  Patagonians 
possess  "  a  multiplicity  of  these  deities;  each  of  whom  they 
believe  to  preside  over  one  particular  caste  or  family  of  In- 
dians, of  which  he  is  supposed  to  have  been  the  creator. 
Some  make  themselves  of  the  caste  of  the  tiger,  some 
of  the  lion,  some  of  the  guanaco,  and  others  of  the  os- 
trich." Leaving  the  many  illustrations  supplied 
by  other  regions,  we  will  look  more  nearly  at  those  coming 


344  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

from  North  America.  The  tribes  north  of  the  Columbia 
"  pretend  to  be  derived  from  the  musk-rat."  "  All  the 
aboriginal  inhabitants  of  California,  without  exception,  be- 
lieve that  their  first  ancestors  were  created  directly  from  the 
earth  of  their  respective  present  dwelling-places,  and,  in 
very  many  cases,  that  these  ancestors  were  coyotes  "  [prairie- 
wolves].  Of  the  Zapotecs  we  read  that  "  some,  to  boast  of 
their  valour,  made  themselves  out  the  sons  of  lions  and 
divers  wild  beasts."  By  the  Haidahs,  "  descent  from  the 
crows  is  quite  gravely  affirmed  and  steadfastly  maintained." 
"  Among  the  Ahts  of  Vancouver  Island,  perhaps  the  com- 
monest notion  of  origin  is  that  men  at  first  existed  as  birds, 
animals,  and  fishes."  The  Chippewayans  "  derive  their  ori- 
gin from  a  dog.  At  one  time  they  were  so  strongly  imbued 
with  respect  for  their  canine  ancestry,  that  they  entirely 
ceased  to  employ  dogs  in  drawing  their  sledges."  The  Koni- 
agas  "  have  their  legendary  Bird  and  Dog, — the  latter  tak- 
ing the  place  occupied  in  the  mythology  of  many  other  tribes 
by  the  wolf  or  coyote." 

In  some  cases,  accounts  are  given  of  the  transmutations. 
Californian  Indians  descending  from  the  prairie-wolf,  ex- 
plain the  loss  of  their  tails:  they  say,  "  an  acquired  habit 
of  sitting  upright,  has  utterly  erased  and  destroyed  that 
beautiful  member."  Those  North  Californians  who  as- 
cribe their  origin  in  part  to  grizzly  bears,  asert  that  in  old 
times  these  walked  "  on  their  hind  legs  like  men,  and 
talked,  and  carried  clubs,  using  the  fore-limbs  as  men  use 
their  arms."  Even  more  strangely  are  these  ideas  of  re- 
lationship shown  by  Franklin's  account  of  the  Dog-rib 
Indians: — 

"These  people  take  their  names,  in  the  first  instance,  from  their 
dogs.  A  young  man  is  the  father  of  a  certain  dog,  but  when  he  is 
married  and  has  a  son,  he  styles  himself  the  father  of  the  boy.  The 
women  have  a  habit  of  reproving  the  dogs  very  tenderly  when  they 
observe  them  fighting.  '  Are  you  not  ashamed, '  say  they,  '  to  quar- 
rel with  your  little  brother  ? '  " 


ANIMAL-WORSHIP.  345 

§  172.  This  last  illustration  introduces  us  to  various  se- 
quences from  the  conception  of  animal-ancestry,  thus  aris- 
ing by  misinterpretation  of  nicknames. 

Animals  must  think  and  understand  as  men  do;  for  are 
they  not  derived  from  the  same  progenitors?  Hence  the 
belief  of  the  Papagos,  that  in  primeval  days  "  men  and 
beasts  talked  together:  a  common  language  made  all  breth- 
ren." Hence  the  practice  of  the  Kamschadales,  who,  when 
fishing,  "  entreat  the  whales  or  sea-horses  not  to  overthrow 
their  boats;  and  in  hunting,  beseech  the  bears  and  wolves 
not  to  hurt  them."  Hence  the  habit  of  the  Dacotahs,  who 
ask  snakes  to  be  friendly ;  and  of  whom  Schoolcraf t  says — 
"  I  have  heard  Indians  talk  and  reason  with  a  horse,  the 
same  as  with  a  person."  Hence  the  notion  betrayed  by  the 
negro  attendants  of  Livingstone,  who  tells  us — "  I  asked  my 
men  what  the  hyasnas  were  laughing  at;  as  they  usually 
give  animals  credit  for  a  share  of  intelligence.  They  said 
they  were  laughing  because  we  could  not  take  the  whole 
[of  the  elephant],  and  that  they  would  have  plenty  to  eat 
as  well  as  we." 

A  second  sequence  is  that  animals,  thus  conceived  as 
akin  to  men,  are  often  treated  with  consideration.  The 
Chippewas,  thinking  they  will  have  to  encounter  in  the 
other  world  the  spirits  of  slain  animals,  apologized  to  a  bear 
for. killing  him,  asked  forgiveness,  and  pretended  that  an 
American  was  to  blame;  and,  similarly,  the  Ostyaks,  after 
destroying  a  bear,  cut  off  his  head,  and  paying  it  "  the  pro- 
foundest  respect,"  tell  the  bear  that  the  Russians  were  his 
murderers.  Among  the  Kookies,  "  the  capture  of  an  ele- 
phant, tiger,  bear,  wild  hog,  or  any  savage  wild  beast,  is  fol- 
lowed by  a  feast  in  propitiation  of  its  manes."  Kindred 
ceremonies  are  performed  by  the  Stiens  of  Cambodia,  the 
Sumatrans,  the  Dyaks,  the  Kaffirs,  the  Siamese,  and  even 
the  Arabs. 

Naturally,  as  a  further  sequence,  there  comes  a  special 
regard  for  the  animal  which  gives  the  tribal  name,  and  is 


316  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

considered  a  relative.  As  the  ancestor  conceived  under  the 
human  form  is  thought  able  to  work  good  or  ill  to  his  de- 
scendants, so,  too,  is  the  ancestor  conceived  under  the  brute- 
form.  Hence  "  no  Indian  tracing  his  descent  from  the 
spirit  mother  and  the  grizzly  .  .  .  will  kill  a  grizzly  bear." 
The  Osages  will  not  destroy  the  beaver:  believing  them- 
selves derived  from  it.  "A  tribe  never  eats  of  the  animal 
which  is  its  namesake,"  among  the  Bechuanas.  Like  ideas 
and  practices  occur  in  Australia  in  a  less  settled  form.  "  A 
member  of  the  family  will  never  kill  an  animal  of  the  spe- 
cies to  which  his  kobong  [animal-namesake]  belongs,  should 
he  find  it  asleep;  indeed,  he  always  kills  it  reluctantly,  and 
never  without  affording  it  a  chance  of  escape."  Joined 
with  this  regard  for  the  animal-namesake  considered  as  a 
relative,  there  goes  belief  in  its  guardianship;  and  hence 
arises  the  faith  in  omens  derived  from  birds  and  quadrupeds. 
The  ancestor  under  the  brute  form,  is  supposed  to  be  solicit- 
ous for  the  welfare  of  his  kindred;  and  tells  them  by  signs 
or  sounds  of  their  danger. 

§  173.  Do  we  not  in  these  observances  see  the  begin- 
nings of  a  worship?  If  the  East  Africans  think  the  souls  of 
departed  chiefs  enter  into  lions  and  render  them  sacred;  we 
may  conclude  that  sacredness  will  equally  attach  to  the 
animals  whose  human  souls  were  ancestral.  If  the  Congo 
people,  holding  this  belief  about  lions,  think  "  the  lion 
spares  those  whom  he  meets,  when  he  is  courteously  sa- 
luted ;  "  the  implication  is  that  there  will  arise  propitiations 
of  the  beast-chief  who  was  the  progenitor  of  the  tribe. 
Prayers  and  offerings  may  be  expected  to  develop  into  a  cult, 
and  the  animal-namesake  into  a  deity. 

When,  therefore,  among  American  Indians,  whose  habit 
of  naming  after  animals  still  continues,  and  whose  legends 
of  animal-progenitors  are  so  specific,  we  find  animals  taking 
rank  as  creators  and  divinities — when  we  read  that  "'raven' 
and  '  wolf  '  are  the  names  of  the  two  gods  of  the  Thlinkeets, 


ANIMAL-WORSHIP.  34.7 

who  are  supposed  to  be  the  founders  of  the  Indian  race;  " 
we  have  just  the  result  to  be  anticipated.  And  when  of 
this  tribe  we  further  read  that  "  the  Raven  trunk  is  again 
divided  into  sub-clans,  called  the  Frog,  the  Goose,  the  Sea- 
Lion,  the  Owl,  and  the  Salmon,"  while  "  the  Wolf  family 
comprises  the  Bear,  Eagle,  Dolphin,  Shark,  and  Alca;  "  we 
see  that  apotheosis  under  the  animal  form,  follows  the  same 
course  as  apotheosis  under  the  human  form.  In  either  case, 
more  recent  progenitors  of  sub-tribes  are  subordinate  to  the 
ancient  progenitors  of  the  entire  tribe. 

Guided  by  these  various  clues  we  may,  I  think,  infer 
that  much  of  the  developed  animal-worship  of  the  ancient 
historic  races,  grew  out  of  this  misinterpretation  of  nick- 
names. Even  now,  among  partially-civilized  peoples,  the 
re-genesis  of  such  worship  is  shown  us.  In  Ashantee  certain 
of  the  king's  attendants,  whose  duty  it  is  to  praise  him,  or 
"  give  him  names,"  cry  out  among  other  titles — "  Bore," 
(the  name  of  a  venomous  serpent)  "  you  are  most  beautiful, 
but  your  bite  is  deadly."  As  these  African  kings  ordinarily 
undergo  apotheosis- — as  this  laudatory  title  "  Bore,"  may  be 
expected  to  survive  in  tradition  along  with  other  titles,  and 
to  be  used  in  propitiations — as  the  Zulus,  who,  led  by  an- 
other suggestion,  think  dead  men  become  snakes,  distinguish 
certain  venomous  snakes  as  chiefs ;  we  must  admit  that  from 
this  complimentary  nickname  of  a  king  who  became  a  god, 
may  naturally  grow  up  the  worship  of  a  serpent :  a  serpent 
who,  nevertheless,  had  a  human  history.  Similarly  when 
we  ask  what  is  likely  to  happen  from  the  animal-name  by 
Avhich  the  king  is  honoured  in  Madagascar.  "  God  is  gone 
to  the  -west — Radama  is  a  mighty  bull,"  were  expressions 
used  by  the  Malagasy  women  in  their  songs  in  praise  of  their 
king,  who  was  absent  on  a  warlike  expedition.  Here  we 
have  the  three  titles  simultaneously  applied — the  god,  the 
king,  the  bull.  If,  then,  the  like  occurred  in  ancient  Egypt 
— if  the  same  papyrus  which  shows  us  Rameses  II  invoking 
his  divine  ancestor,  also  contains  the  title  "  conquering  bull," 


348  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

given  to  Rameses  by  the  subjugated — if  we  find  another 
Egyptian  king  called  "  a  resolute  Bull,  he  went  forward, 
being  a  Bull  king,  a  god  manifest  the  day  of  combats;  "  can 
we  doubt  that  from  like  occurrences  in  earlier  times  arose 
the  worship  of  Apis?  Can  we  doubt  that  Osiris- Apis  was 
an  ancient  hero-king,  who  became  a  god,  when,  according 
to  Brugsch,  the  Step-pyramid,  built  during  the  first  dynasty, 
"  concealed  the  bleached  bones  of  bulls  and  the  inscriptions 
chiselled  in  the  stone  relating  to  the  royal  names  of  the 
Apis,"  and,  as  he  infers,  "  was  a  common  sepulchre  of  the 
holy  bulls:  "  re-incarnations  of  this  apotheosized  hero-king? 
Can  we  doubt  that  the  bovine  deities  of  the  Hindus  and  As- 
syrians similarly  originated? 

So  that  misinterpretations  of  metaphorical  titles,  which 
inevitably  occur  in  early  speech,  being  given,  the  rise  of 
animal-worship  is  a  natural  sequence.  Mammals,  birds, 
reptiles,  fishes,  all  yield  nicknames;  are  all  in  one  place  or 
other  regarded  as  progenitors;  all  acquire,  among  this  or 
that  people,  a  sacredness  rising  in  many  cases  to  adoration. 
Even  where  the  nickname  is  one  of  reproach — even  where 
the  creature  is  of  a  kind  to  inspire  contempt  rather  than 
respect,  we  see  that  identification  with  the  ancestor  explains 
worship  of  it.  The  Yeddahs,  who  are  predominantly  an- 
cestor-worshippers, also  worship  a  tortoise.  Though  among 
them  the  reason  is  not  traceable,  we  find  an  indication  of  it 
elsewhere.  Mr.  Bates,  during  his  Amazon  explorations,  had 
two  attendants  surnamed  Tortoise;  and  their  surname  had 
descended  to  them  from  a  father  whose  slowness  had  sug- 
gested this  nickname.  Here  we  see  the  first  step  towards 
the  formation  of  a  tortoise  tribe;  having  the  tortoise  for 
ancestor,  totem,  deity. 

§  174.  Some  strange  facts,  completely  explicable  on  the 
hypothesis  above  set  forth,  may  be  added.  I  refer  to  the 
worship  of  beings  represented  as  half  man  half  bnite. 

If,  in  the  genealogy  of  future  Ashantee  kings,  tradition 


ANIMAL-WORSHIP.  349 

preserves  the  statement  that  their  ancestor  was  the  veno- 
mous serpent  "  Bore  " — if  there  goes  down  to  posterity  the 
fact  that  u  Bore  "  was  a  ruler,  a  law-maker,  an  articulate 
speaking  person — if  legend  says  both  that  he  was  a  snake 
and  that  he  was  a  man;  what  is  likely  to  happen?  Im- 
plicitly believing  his  seniors,  the  savage  will  accept  both 
these  assertions.  In  some  cases  he  will  sit  down  contentedly 
under  the  contradiction;  in  others  he  will  attempt  a  com- 
promise. Especially  if  he  makes  a  graphic  or  sculptured 
effigy,  will  he  be  led  to  unite  the  incongruous  characters  as 
best  he  can — will  produce  a  figure  partly  human,  partly 
reptilian.  It  may  be  reasonably  anticipated  that  if  Malagasy 
stories  and  songs  tell  of  the  conquering  Radama  as  "  a 
mighty  bull,"  as  a  king,  as  a  god,  development  of  the  result- 
ing cult,  joined  with  development  of  the  plastic  arts,  will  end 
in  a  representation  of  the  god  Radama  either  as  a  man,  or  as 
a  bull,  or  as  a  bull-headed  man,  or  as  a  creature  having  a 
bovine  body  with  a  human  head. 

In  another  manner  does  misinterpretation  of  metaphors 
suggest  this  type  of  deity.  Ancestors  who  survive  in  legends 
under  their  animal-names,  and  of  whom  the  legends  also 
say  that  they  took  to  wife  certain  ancestors  bearing  either 
different  animal-names  or  human  names,  will  be  supposed  to 
have  had  offspring  combining  the  attributes  of  both  parents. 
A  passage  from  Bancroft's  account  of  the  Aleutians  shows 
us  the  initial  stage  of  such  a  belief. 

"  Some  say  that  in  the  beginning  a  Bitch  inhabited  Unalaska,  and 
that  a  great  Dog  swam  across  to  her  from  Kadiak;  from  which  pair 
the  human  race  have  sprung.  Others,  naming  the  bitch-mother  of 
their  race  Mahakh,  describe  a  certain  Old  Man,  called  Iraghdadakh, 
who  came  from  the  north  to  visit  this  Mahakh.  The  result  of  this 
visit  was  the  birth  of  two  creatures,  male  and  female,  with  such  an 
extraordinary  mixing  up  of  the  elements  of  nature  in  them  that  they 
•were  each  half  man  half  fox." 

Now  such  a  legend,  or  such  a  one  as  that  of  the  Quiche's  con- 
cerning the  descent  of  mankind  from  a  cave-dwelling  woman 
and  a  dog  who  could  transform  himself  into  a  handsome 


350  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

youth,  or  such  a  one  as  that  of  the  Dikokamenni  Kirghiz, 
who  say  they  are  descended  "  from  a  red  greyhound  and  a 
certain  queen  with  her  forty  handmaidens,"  can  hardly  fail 
to  initiate  ideas  of  compound  gods.  Peoples  who  advance 
far  enough  to  develop  their  rude  effigies  of  ancestors  placed 
on  graves,  into  idols  inclosed  in  temples,  will,  if  they  have 
traditions  of  this  kind,  be  likely  to  represent  the  creators  of 
their  tribes  as  dog-headed  men  or  human-faced  dogs. 

In  these  two  allied  ways,  then,  the  hybrid  deities  of  semi- 
civilized  peoples  are  explicable.  The  Chaldeans  and  Baby- 
lonians had  in  common  their  god  tergal,  the  winged  man- 
lion,  and  also  Nin,  the  fish-god — a  fish  out  of  which  grew 
near  its  head  a  human  head,  and  near  its  tail  human  feet. 
The  adjacent  Philistines,  too,  had  their  kindred  god  Dagon, 
(shown  with  the  face  and  hands  of  a  man  and  the  tail  of  a 
fish.  Then  in  Assyria  there  was  the  winged  man-bull,  repre- 
sentative of  Nin ;  and  in  Phoanicia  there  was  Astarte,  some- 
times represented  as  partially  human  and  partially  bovine. 
Egypt  had  a  great  variety  of  these  compound  supernatural 
beings.  In  addition  to  the  god  Ammon,  figured  as  a  man 
with  a  ram's  head,  Ilorus,  with  the  head  of  a  hawk,  the  god- 
desses Muth  and  Hathor  with  that  of  a  lion  and  that  of  a 
cow,  Thoth  with  that  of  an  ibis,  Typhon  with  that  of  an  ass, 
and  brute-headed  demons  too  numerous  to  mention;  we 
have  the  various  sphinxes,  which  to  a  lion's  body  unite  the 
heads  of  men,  of  rams,  of  hawks,  of  snakes,  etc.  We  have 
also  more  involved  compounds;  as  winged  mammals  with 
hawks'  heads,  and  winged  crocodiles  with  hawks'  heads. 
Nay,  there  was  one  named  Sak,  which,  says  Wilkinson, 
"  united  a  bird,  a  quadruped,  and  a  vegetable  production  in 
its  own  person."  The  explanation  is  evident.  We  have 
seen  that  to  the  late  king  of  Ashantee  both  "  Lion  "  and 
"  Snake  "  were  given  as  names  of  honour;  and  the  multi- 
plication of  names  of  honour  was  carried  to  a  great  extent 
by  the  Egyptians. 


ANIMAL-WORSHIP.  351 

§  175.  To  abridge  what  remains  of  this  exposition,  I 
will  merely  indicate  the  additional  groups  of  supporting 
facts. 

The  Egyptians,  whose  customs  were  so  persistent  and 
whose  ancestor- worship  was  so  elaborate,  show  us,  just  where 
we  might  expect  them,  all  the  results  of  this  misinterpreta- 
tion. They  had  clans  whose  sacred  animals  differed,  and 
who  regarded  each  other's  sacred  animals  with  abhorrence : 
a  fact  pointing  to  an  early  stage  when  these  animals  gave  the 
names  to  chiefs  of  antagonistic  tribes.  Animal-naming  con- 
tinued down  to  late  periods  in  their  history :  after  their  kings 
had  human  proper  names,  they  still  had  animal-names  joined 
with  these.  The  names  of  some  of  their  sacred  animals  were 
identical  with  those  given  in  honour.  They  embalmed  ani- 
mals as  they  embalmed  men.  They  had  animal-gods ;  they 
had  many  kinds  of  hybrid  gods. 

Where  we  find  most  dominant  the  practice  of  naming 
after  animals,  and  where  there  result  these  legends  of  de- 
scent from  animals  and  regard  for  them  as  divinities,  we 
also  find  developed  to  the  greatest  extent,  the  legends  about 
animal-agency  in  human  affairs.  As  Bancroft  says  concern- 
ing the  Indians  of  the  Pacific  States — "  Beasts  and  birds  and 
fishes  fetch  and  carry,  talk  and  act,  in  a  way  that  leaves  even 
^Esop's  heroes  in  the  shade."  Numerous  such  facts  answer 
to  the  hypothesis. 

The  hypothesis  explains,  also,  the  cases  in  which  the 
order  of  genesis  is  inverted.  "  The  Salish,  the  Nisquallies, 
and  the  Yakimas  ...  all  hold  that  beasts,  fishes,  and  even 
edible  roots  are  descended  from  human  originals."  Clearly 
this  is  a  conception  which  the  misinterpretation  of  nick- 
names may  originate.  If  "  the  Bear  "  was  the  founder  of 
a  tribe  whose  deeds  were  preserved  in  tradition,  the  alterna- 
tive interpretations  might  be  that  he  was  the  bear  from 
whom  men  descended,  or  that  he  was  the  man  from  whom 
bears  descended.  Many  of  the  metamorphoses  of  classic 
mythology  probably  thus  originated,  when  the  human  ante- 


352  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

cedents,  either  of  parentage  or  adventures,  were  so  distinct 
as  to  negative  the  opposite  view. 

Of  course  the  doctrine  of  metempsychosis  becomes  com- 
prehensible; arid  its  developments  no  longer  look  so  gro- 
tesque. Where  a  man  who  had  several  animal-names  was 
spoken  of  in  this  legend  as  the  eagle  and  in  that  as  the  wolf, 
there  would  result  the  idea  that  he  was  now  one  and  now 
the  other;  and  from  this  suggestion,  unchecked  credulity 
might  not  unnaturally  elaborate  the  belief  in  successive 
transformations. 

Stories  of  women  wTho  have  borne  animals,  similarly  fall 
into  their  places.  The  Land-Dyaks  of  Lundu  consider  it 
wrong  to  kill  the  cobra,  because  "  one  of  their  female  an- 
cestors was  pregnant  for  seven  years,  and  ultimately  brought 
forth  twins — one  a  human  being,  the  other  a  cobra."  The 
Batavians  "  believe  that  women,  when  they  are  delivered 
of  a  child,  are  frequently  at  the  same  time  delivered  of  a 
young  crocodile  as  a  twin."  May  we  not  conclude  that 
twins  of  whom  one  gained  the  nickname  of  the  crocodile, 
gave  rise  to  a  legend  which  originated  this  monstrous  belief? 

If  the  use  of  animal-names  preceded  the  use  of  human 
proper  names — if,  when  there  arose  such  proper  names,  these 
did  not  at  first  displace  the  animal-names  but  were  joined 
with  them — if,  at  a  still  later  stage,  animal-names  fell  into 
disuse  and  the  conventional  surnames  became  predominant ; 
then  it  seems  inferable  that  the  brute-god  arises  first,  that 
the  god  half-brute  and  half-human  belongs  to  a  later  stage, 
and  that  the  anthropomorphic  god  comes  latest.  Amid  the 
entanglements  due  to  the  mixtures  of  mythologies,  it  is 
difficult  to  show  this ;  but  there  seems  reason  for  suspecting 
that  it  has  been  so  among  peoples  who  originally  practised 
animal-naming  extensively. 

§  176.  We  conclude,  then,  that  in  three  ways  is  the 

primitive  man  led  to  identify  the  animal  with  the  ancestor. 

The  other-self  of  the  dead  relative  is  supposed  to  come 


ANIMAL-WORSHIP.  353 

back  occasionally  to  his  old  abode ;  how  else  is  it  possible  for 
the  survivors,  sleeping  there,  to  see  him  in  their  dreams? 
Here  are  creatures  which  commonly,  unlike  wild  creatures 
in  general,  come  into  houses — come  in,  too,  secretly  in  the 
night.  The  implication  is  clear.  That  snakes,  which  espe- 
cially do  this,  are  the  returned  dead,  is  inferred  by  peoples 
in  Africa,  Asia,  and  America :  the  haunting  of  houses  being 
the  common  trait  of  the  kinds  of  snakes  reverenced  or  wor- 
shipped; and  also  the  trait  of  certain  lizards,  insects,  and 
birds  similarly  regarded. 

The  ghost,  sometimes  re-visiting  the  house,  is  thought 
also  to  linger  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  corpse.  Creatures 
found  in  caves  used  for  burials,  hence  come  to  be  taken 
for  the  new  shapes  assumed  by  departed  souls.  Bats  and 
owls  are  conceived  to  be  winged  spirits;  and  from  them 
arise  the  ideas  of  devils  and  angels. 

Lastly,  and  chiefly,  comes  that  identification  of  the  ani- 
mal with  the  ancestor,  which  is  caused  by  interpreting  meta-r 
phorical  names  literally.  Primitive  speech  is  unable  to 
transmit  to  posterity  the  distinction  between  an  animal  and 
a  person  named  after  that  animal.  Hence  the  confusion 
of  the  two;  hence  the  regard  for  the  animal  as  progenitor; 
hence  the  growth  of  a  worship.  Besides  explaining  animal- 
gods,  this  hypothesis  accounts  for  sundry  anomalous  beliefs 
—the  divinities  half -brute,  half -human;  the  animals  that 
talk,  and  play  active  parts  in  human  affairs;  the  doctrine 
of  metempsychosis,  etc. 

By  modification  upon  modification,  leading  to  complica- 
tions and  divergences  without  limit,  evolution  brings  into 
being  products  extremely  unlike  their  germs;  and  we  here 
have  an  instance  in  this  derivation  of  animal-worship  from 
the  propitiation  of  ghosts. 

NOTE. — Some  have  concluded  that  animal-worship  originates  from  totem- 
ism  :  a  totem  being  an  animal,  plant,  or  inorganic  object,  chosen  as  a  dis- 
tinctive symbol  by  a  tribe  or  by  a  man.  Among  some  peoples,  individual?, 
led  by  signs,  fix  on  particular  animals  as  guardians  ;  and  thereafter  treat  them 


354  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

as  sacred.  It  is  assumed  that  tribal  totems  have  originated  in  similar  acts  of 
deliberate  choice  ;  and  that  in  each  case  the  belief  in  descent  from  the  animal, 
plant,  or  other  object  chosen,  originates  subsequently. 

This  hypothesis  inverts  the  facts  :  belief  in  descent  is  primary  and  totem- 
ism  is  secondary.  Doubtless  there  are  cases,  in  which  individual  savages  fix 
on  special  objects  as  their  totems ;  but  this  no  more  proves  that  totemism 
thus  arose,  than  does  the  fixing  on  a  coat  of  arms  by  a  wealthy  trader 
prove  that  heraldic  distinctions  were  at  the  outset  established  by  deliberate 
selections. 

The  totem-theory  incidentally  propounds  a  problem  more  difficult  than 
that  which  it  professes  to  solve.  It  raises  the  question — Why  did  there  occur 
so  purely  gratuitous  an  act  as  that  of  fixing  on  a  symbol  for  the  tribe  ?  That 
by  one  tribe  out  of  multitudes  so  strange  a  whim  might  be  displayed,  is 
credible.  But  that  by  tribes  unallied  in  type  and  scattered  throughout  the 
world,  there  should  have  been  independently  adopted  so  odd  a  practice  is 
incredible. 

Not  only  is  the  hypothesis  untenable  as  implying  a  result  without  a  com- 
prehensible cause,  but  it  is  untenable  as  being  at  variance  with  the  nature  of 
the  primitive  mind.  The  savage  invents  nothing,  initiates  nothing.  He  sim- 
ply does  and  believes  whatever  his  seniors  taught  him  ;  and  he  deviates  into 
anything  new  unintentionally.  An  hypothesis  which  assumes  the  contrary  is 
out  of  court. 


CHAPTEK  XXIII. 

PLANT-WORSHIP. 

§  177.  WHETHER  produced  by  fasting,  fever,  hysteria, 
or  insanity,  any  extreme  excitement  is,  by  savage  and  semi- 
civilized  peoples,  ascribed  to  a  possessing  spirit :  this  we  saw 
in  §§  123 — 31.  Similar  is  the  interpretation  of  an  unusual 
mental  state  caused  by  a  nervous  stimulant.  It  is  thought 
that  a  supernatural  being,  contained  in  the  solid  or  liquid 
swallowed,  produces  it. 

Speaking  of  opium-eaters,  Yambery  says — "  What  sur- 
prised me  most  was  that  these  wretched  people  were  regarded 
as  eminently  religious,  of  whom  it  was  thought  that  from 
their  love  to  God  and  the  Prophet  they  had  become  mad, 
and  stupefied  themselves  in  order  that  in  their  excited  state 
they  might  be  nearer  the  Beings  they  loved  so  well."  So, 
too,  the  Mandingoes  intoxicate  themselves  to  enter  into  re- 
lation with  the  godhead:  the  accompanying  belief  being 
that  the  exaltation  experienced  is  a  divine  inspiration.  This 
was  the  view  definitely  expressed  by  the  Arafura  (Papuan 
Islander)  who,  when  told  about  the  Christian  God,  said — 
"  Then  this  God  is  certainly  in  your  arrack,  for  I  never  feel 
happier  than  when  I  have  drunk  plenty  of  it." 

May  we  not  hence  expect  certain  derivative  beliefs  re- 
specting plants  which  yield  intoxicating  liquors?  Obvi- 
ously; and  our  search  for  them  will  not  be  fruitless. 

§  178.  As  a  typical  case  may  be  taken  the  worship  of 

the  Soma.     This  plant,  represented  as  growing  in  certain 

355 


356  THE  DATA   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

mountains,  as  gathered  by  moonlight,  and  as  drawn  with 
ceremonies  to  the  place  of  sacrifice,  was  crushed  between 
stones,  and  its  juice  expressed  and  filtered.  When  fer- 
mented, the  juice  (in  some  places  described  as  sweet)  pro- 
duced an  intoxicating  liquor  which  was  drunk  by  the  dev- 
otees, who,  judging  from  the  words,  "  a  rishi,  a  drinker  of 
the  Soma,"  were  of  the  priestly  class.  The  exhilarating 
effects  of  the  beverage  were  attributed  to  inspiration  by  a 
supernatural  being,  who  was  therefore  lauded  and  adored. 
In  his  essay  on  the  subject,  partly  translated  by  Dr.  Muir, 
"Windischmann  describes  the  Soma  as  "  the  holiest  offering 
of  the  ancient  Indian  worship  "  (ii,  471);  or,  as  Muir  says, 
"  the  rishis  had  come  to  regard  Soma  as  a  god,  and  appar- 
ently to  be  passionately  devoted  to  his  worship."  Here, 
from  the  Sanscrit  Texts  of  the  latter  writer,  are  passages 
showing  the  genesis  of  the  belief.  First  may  be  placed 
some  implying  the  exaltation  caused  by  the  fermented 
Soma-juice. 

Rig  Veda  vi,  47,  3.  "This  [soma]  when  drunk,  stimulates  my 
speech  [or  hymn] ;  this  called  forth  the  ardent  thought "  (iii,  264). 

R.  V.  ix,  25,  5.  "The  ruddy  Soma,  generating  hymns,  with  the 
powers  of  a  poet "  (iii,  265). 

R.  V.  viii,  48,  3.  ' '  We  have  drunk  the  soma,  we  have  become 
immortal,  we  have  entered  into  light,  we  have  known  the  gods  "  (iii, 
265). 

ISTot  only  the  rishis  are  inspired  by  Soma,  but  also  their 
deities.  "  The  gods  drink  the  offered  beverage,"  and  are 
"  thrown  into  a  joyous  intoxication."  Indra  "  performs  his 
great  deeds  under  its  influence."  It  is  said — "  We  summon 
his  soul  [that  of  Varuna]  with  Soma."  Elsewhere  the  con- 
tained supernatural  being  is  addressed  personally. 

R.  V.  ix,  110,  7.  "The  former  [priests]  having  strewed  the  sacred 
grass,  offered  up  a  hymn  to  thee,  O  Soma,  for  great  strength  and 
food  "  (iii,  223). 

R.  V.  ix,  96,  11.  "For  through  thee,  O  pure  Soma,  our  wise 
forefathers  of  old  performed  their  sacred  rights  "  (iii,  222). 

R.  V.  ix,  96,  18.  "Soma,  rishi-minded,  rishi-maker,  bestower  of 
good,  master  of  a  thousand  songs,  the  leader  of  sages  "  (iii,  251). 


*  PLANT-WORSHIP.  357 

How  literal  was  the  belief  that  by  a  draught  of  soma  the 
drinker  became  possessed,  is  proved  by  the  prayer — "  Soma 
...  do  thou  enter  into  us,  full  of  kindness."  And  then, 
showing  how  the  resulting  mental  power  was  regarded  as  a 
divine  afflatus,  we  have  the  passage  in  R.  V.  ix,  97,  7— 
"  Uttering,  like  TJsanas,  the  wisdom  of  a  sage,  the  god 
(Soma)  declares  the  births  of  the  gods."  Other  passages, 
along  with  this  deification  of  the  Soma,  join  the  belief  that 
he  is  present  in  the  beverage  partaken  of  alike  by  the  other 
gods  and  by  men.  Instance,  in  R.  V.  ix,  42,  2,  the  words — 
"  This  god,  poured  forth  to  the  gods,  with  an  ancient  hymn, 
purifies  with  his  stream."  Further,  there  are  implied  identi- 
fications of  this  supernatural  being  with  a  once-living  per- 
son. One  of  the  less  specific  in  R.  V.  ix,  107,  7,  runs — 
"  A  rishi,  a  sage,  intelligent,  thou  (Soma)  wast  a  poet,  most 
agreeable  to  the  gods."  In  other  places  his  identity  is  more 
specifically  stated.  Thus,  in  the  Taittiriya  Brahmana,  ii, 
3,  10,  1,  it  is  said — "  Prajapati  created  king  Soma.  After 
him  the  three  Vedas  were  created."  And  still  more  spe- 
cific are  the  legends  which  describe  king  Soma  as  having 
wives,  and  narrate  his  disagreements  with  some  of  them. 
Much  more  exalted,  however,  is  the  character  elsewhere 
given  to  him.  "  He  is  immortal,  and  confers  immortality 
on  gods  and  men;  "  "  the  creator  and  father  of  the  gods;  " 
"  king  of  gods  and  men."  Yet  along  with  this  ascription 
of  supreme  divinity  goes  the  belief  that  he  is  present  in  the 
Soma-juice.  Here  is  a  passage  combining  all  the  attri- 
butes : — 

R.  V.  ix,  96,  5  and  6.  "  Soma  is  purified;  he  who  is  the  genera- 
tor of  hymns,  of  Dyaus,  of  Prithivi,  of  Agni,  of  Surya,  of  Indra,  and 
of  Vishnu.  Soma,  who  is  a  brahm&n-priest  among  the  gods  (or 
priests),  a  leader  among  the  poets,  a  rishi  among  sages,  a  buffalo 
among  wild  beasts,  a  falcon  among  vultures,  an  axe  amid  the  forests, 
advances  to  the  filter  with  a  sound  "  (iii,  266). 

The  origin  of  these  conceptions  dates  back  to  a  time  when 
the  Aryan  races  had  not  widely  diverged;  for  like  concep- 
tions occur  in  the  Zend-Avesta.    Though  instead  of  Soma, 
24 


358  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

the  name  there  used  is  Haorna,  there  is  so  general  an  agree- 
ment as  to  show  identity  of  the  plant  and  of  the  worship. 
Windischmann  says  the  Haoma  is  "  not  a  plant  only,  but 
also  a  powerful  deity ;  "  and  also  that "  in  both  works  (Zend- 
Avesta  and  Rig  Veda)  the  conceptions  of  the  god  and  the 
sacred  juice  blend  wonderfully  with  each  other." 

That  certain  plants  yielding  intoxicating  agents  are 
therefore  supposed  to  contain  supernatural  beings,  is  a  con- 
clusion supported  by  other  instances — that  of  the  vine  being 
one.  Speaking  of  Soma  as  "  the  Indian  Dionysus,"  Dr. 
Muir  quotes  from  the  BacchcB  of  Euripides  certain  passages 
showing  analogous  conceptions.  Of  Dionysus  it  is  said: — 

"  He  discovered  and  introduced  among  men  the  liquid  draught  of 
the  grape,  which  puts  an  end  to  the  sorrows  of  wretched  mortals " 
(v,  260). 

"He,  born  a  god,  is  poured  out  in  libations  to  gods"  (v,  260). 

"And  this  deity  is  a  prophet.  For  Bacchic  excitement  and  rav- 
ing have  in  them  much  prophetic  power.  For  when  this  god  enters 
in  force  into  the  body,  he  causes  those  who  rave  to  foretell  the  future  " 
(iii,  265). 

That  the  facts  are  to  be  thus  interpreted  is  shown  by 
certain  allied  but  less  developed  beliefs  found  elsewhere. 
In  Peru,  tobacco  "  has  been  called  the  sacred  herb  " — a 
nervous  stimulant  was  regarded  with  reverence.  Similarly 
with  another  plant  which  has  an  invigorating  effect,  coca. 
"  The  Peruvians  still  look  upon  it  [coca]  with  feelings  of 
superstitious  veneration.  In  the  time  of  the  Incas  it  was 
sacrificed  to  the  Sun,  the  Huillac  Umu,  or  high  priest,  chew- 
ing the  leaf  during  the  ceremony."  Among  the  Chibchas, 
too,  kayo  (coca)  was  used  as  an  inspiring  agent  by  the  priests; 
and  certain  people  chewed  and  smoked  tobacco  to  produce 
the  power  of  divination.  In  Xorth  Mexico,  a  kindred  notion 
is  implied  by  the  fact  that  some  of  the  natives  "  have  a  great 
veneration  for  the  hidden  virtues  of  poisonous  plants,  and 
believe  that  if  they  crush  or  destroy  one,  some  harm  will 
happen  to  them."  And  at  the  present  time  in  the  Philippine 
Islands,  the  Ignatius  bean,  which  contains  strychnia  and  is 


PLANT-WORSHIP.  359 

used  as  a  medicine,  is  worn  as  an  amulet  and  held  capable 
of  miracles.* 

§  179.  The  attribution  to  a  plant  of  a  human  personal- 
ity, and  the  consequent  tendency  towards  worship  of  the 
plant,  has  other  origins.  Here  is  one  of  them. 

In  §  148,  after  giving  some  extracts  from  the  cos- 
mogony of  the  Amazulu,  including  the  statement  that  Un- 
kulunkulu,  their  creator,  descended  from  a  reed,  or  a  bed 
of  reeds,  I  cited  the  interpretation  of  Bp.  Callaway:  re- 
marking that  we  should  hereafter  find  a  more  natural  one. 
This  more  natural  one  is  not  derivable  from  traditions  fur- 
nished by  the  Amazulu  alone ;  but  comparison  of  their  tra- 
ditions with  those  of  neighbouring  races  discloses  it. 

*  As  a  corollary  from  this  group  of  beliefs,  let  me  here  add  a  possible  ex- 
planation. Causing  mental  exaltation,  Soma  is  described  in  the  Vedic  hymns 
as  giving  knowledge.  We  have  the  expressions — "  Soma  of  incomparable 
wisdom  ; "  "  the  ruddy  Soma "  has  "  the  understanding  of  a  sage ; "  "  we 
have  drunk  the  Soma,  ...  we  have  entered  into  light."  By  implication, 
then,  the  Soma  is  called,  if  not  a  "tree  of  knowledge,"  still,  a  plant  of 
knowledge.  Further,  the  Soma  is  said  to  have  given  life  to  the  gods ;  and 
the  rejoicing  statement  of  the  rishis  is — "  We  have  drunk  the  Soma,  we  have 
become  immortal."  As  the  source  of  an  enlivening  beverage  the  Soma  is 
thus  a  "  tree  of  life ; "  and  how  naturally  such  a  notion  results  from  the  effect 
of  a  nervous  stimulant,  is  shown  to  us  by  the  calling  alcohol  ecu  de  vie.  Now 
with  these  facts  join  the  fact,  that  where  the  supply  of  a  valued  commodity  is 
small,  a  superior  person  naturally  forbids  consumption  of  it  by  inferiors — the 
conquered,  slaves,  subjects.  Thus  in  Peru,  the  nervous  stimulant  coca,  or 
cuca,  was  limited  to  the  royal  class :  "  only  the  Ynca  and  his  relations,  and 
some  Curacas,  to  whom  the  Ynca  extended  this  favour,  were  allowed  to  eat 
the  herb  called  cuca."  We  here  discern  a  probable  motive  for  interdicting 
the  use  of  a  plant  from  the  fruit  or  juice  of  which  a  stimulant  producing 
mental  exaltation  is  obtained — a  motive  much  more  comprehensible  than  is 
the  desire  that  subject  beings  should  continue  to  confound  good  and  evil.  A 
certain  ancient  legend  is  thus  rendered  comprehensible.  (Since  this  was 
written  I  find  that  the  sacred  tree  of  the  Assyrians,  figured  in  their  sculp- 
tures, is  considered  by  archaeologists — having  no  hypothesis  to  justify — to 
represent  the  palm-tree  ;  and  with  this  identification  we  may  join  the  fact  that 
even  still,  in  some  regions,  an  intoxicating  drink  is  made  by  fermenting  palm- 
juice.) 


360  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Already  it  has  been  shown  that  in  South  Africa,  as  in 
other  parts  of  the  world,  stories  obviously  descending  from 
ancestral  troglodytes,  refer  to  caves  as  places  of  creation. 
Instances  before  given  may  be  supported  by  others.  Re- 
specting the  Bechuanas,  Moffat  says — 

"  Morimo  [the  native  name  for  a  god]  as  well  as  man,  with  all  the 
different  species  of  animals,  came  out  of  a  hole  or  cave  in  the  Bakone 
country,  to  the  north,  where,  say  they,  their  footmarks  are  still  to  be 
seen  in  the  indurated  rock,  which  was  at  that  time  sand." 
Again,  the  beliefs  of  the  Basutos  are  thus  given  by  Casa- 
lis:— 

"A  legend  says  that  both  men  and  animals  came  out  of  the  bowels 
of  the  earth  by  an  immense  hole,  the  opening  of  which  was  in  a  cav- 
ern, and  that  the  animals  appeared  first.  Another  tradition,  more 
generally  received  among  the  Basutos,  is,  that  man  sprang  up  in  a 
marshy  place,  where  reeds  were  growing." 

And  now  observe  the  unexpected  way  in  which  these  two 
traditions  of  the  Basutos  are  reconciled  with  one  another,  as 
well  as  with  the  traditions  of  the  Bechuanas  and  the  Ama- 
zulu.  Here  is  a  passage  from  Arbousset  and  Daumas: — 

"  This  spot  is  very  celebrated  amongst  the  Basutos  and  the  Ligho- 
yas,  not  only  because  the  litakus  of  the  tribes  are  there,  but  because 
of  a  certain  mythos,  in  which  they  are  told  that  their  ancestors  came 
originally  from  that  place.  There  is  there  a  cavern  surrounded  with 
marsh  reeds  and  mud,  whence  they  believe  that  they  have  all  pro- 
ceeded." 

So  that  these  several  statements  refer  to  the  same  place — 
the  place  where  TJnkulunkulu  "  broke  off  in  the  beginning  " 
— where  he  "  broke  off  the  nations  from  Uthlanga"  [a  reed] 
— where  the  tribes  separated  (the  word  used  means  literally 
to  separate).  And  while  in  some  traditions  the  cave  became 
dominant,  in  others  the  surrounding  bed  of  reeds  was  alone 
recollected.  Men  came  out  of  the  reeds — men  descended 
from  reeds — men  descended  from  a  reed ;  became  one  form 
of  the  legend. 

Among  the  Amazulu  there  seems  no  resulting  worship 
of  the  reed ;  and  as,  worshipping  their  near  ancestors,  they 


PLANT-WORSHIP.  361 

do  not  worship  their  remotest  ancestor  TJnkulunkulu,  it  is 
consistent  that  they  should  not  worship  the  plant  whence 
he  is  said  to  have  proceeded.  Another  South  African  race, 
however,  worship  a  plant  similarly  regarded  as  an  original 
ancestor.  Of  the  Damaras,  Galton  tells  us  "  a  tree  is  sup- 
posed to  be  the  universal  progenitor,  two  of  which  divide 
the  honour  "  (Andersson  says  there  are  several).  Elsewhere 
he  adds — "  We  passed  a  magnificent  tree.  It  was  the  parent 
of  all  the  Damaras.  .  .  .  The  savages  danced  round  and 
round  it  in  great  delight."  In  another  place  he  thus  gives 
the  Damara  creed: — "  In  the  beginning  of  things  there  was 
a  tree,  .  .  .  and  out  of  this  tree  came  Damaras,  Bushmen, 
oxen,  and  zebras.  .  .  .  The  tree  gave  birth  to  everything 
else  that  lives."  Unconnected  with  anything  further,  this 
appears  to  be  an  unaccountable  belief.  But  a  clue  to  the 
origin  of  it  is  yielded  by  the  following  note  in  Andersson's 
Ngaini.  "  In  my  journey  to  the  Lake  Ngami,  ...  I  ob- 
served whole  forests  of  a  species  of  tree  called  Omumbo- 
rombonga,  the  supposed  progenitor  of  the  Damaras." 
If,  now,  we  make  the  reasonable  supposition  that  these 
tribes  descended  from  a  people  who  lived  in  forests  of 
such  trees  (and  low  types,  as  \reddahs,  Juangs,  and  wild 
tribes  in  the  interior  of  Borneo,  are  forest-twellers),  we 
may  infer  that  a  confusion  like  that  between  a  reed 
and  a  bed  of  reeds,  originated  this  notion  of  descent  from 
a  tree. 

The  inference  drawn  from  these  two  allied  cases  might 
be  questionable  were  it  unsupported;  but  it  is  supported 
by  the  inference  from  a  much  stronger  case.  Bastian  tells 
us  that  the  Congoese  proper,  according  to  their  traditions, 
have  sprung  from  trees;  and  we  are  also  told  that  "the 
forest  from  which  the  reigning  family  of  Congo  originated, 
was  afterwards  an  object  of  veneration  to  the  natives." 
Here,  then,  emergence  from  a  forest  is  obviously  confounded 
with  descent  from  trees;  and  there  is  a  consequent  quasi- 
worship  both  of  the  forest  and  of  its  component  tree :  indi- 


362  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

vidual  trees  of  the  species  being  planted  in  their  market- 
places. 

On  recalling  the  before-named  fact,  that  even  Sanscrit 
indiscriminately  applies  to  the  same  process  the  words  mak- 
ing and  begetting;  we  shall  not  doubt  that  an  inferior  lan- 
guage will  fail  to  maintain  in  tradition  the  distinction  be- 
tween emerging  from  a  forest  of  trees  of  a  certain  kind  and 
emerging  from  a  certain  kind  of  tree.  Doubt,  if  any  re- 
mains, will  disappear  when  we  come  to  sundry  analogous 
cases  of  confusion  between  a  locality  whence  the  race  came, 
and  a  conspicuous  object  in  that  locality,  which  so  becomes 
the  supposed  parent  of  the  race. 

§  180.  Before  passing  to  the  third  origin  of  plant-wor- 
ship, which,  like  the  third  origin  of  animal-worship,  is  lin- 
guistic, I  must  remind  the  reader  of  the  defects  of  language 
conducing  to  it,  and  exemplify  some  others. 

According  to  Palgrave,  "  the  colours  green,  black,  and 
brown  are  habitually  confounded  in  common  Arabic  par- 
lance." Hunter  says  "  Santali,  being  barren  of  abstract 
terms,  has  no  word  for  ( time.' '  The  Kamschadales  have 
"  but  one  term  for  the  sun  and  the  moon,"  and  have  "  scarce- 
ly any  names  for  fish  or  birds,  which  are  merely  distin- 
guished by  the  moon  in  which  they  are  the  most  plentiful." 
Such  instances  strengthen  the  conclusion  that  undeveloped 
speech  cannot  express  the  distinction  between  an  object  and 
a  person  named  after  it. 

But  here  let  us  observe  that  this  inference  need  not  be 
left  in  the  form  of  an  implication :  it  may  be  directly  drawn. 
In  early  stages  of  linguistic  progress  there  can  exist  no  such 
word  as  name ;  still  less  a  word  for  the  act  of  naming.  Even 
the  ancient  Egyptian  language  had  not  risen  to  the  power  of 
expressing  any  difference  between  "  My  name  "  and  "  I 
name  or  call."  Understood  in  the  abstract,  the  word  name 
is  a  symbol  of  symbols.  Before  a  word  can  be  conceived 
as  a  name,  it  must  be  thought  of  not  simply  as  a  sound  as- 


.  PLANT-WORSHIP.  363 

sociated  with  a  certain  object,  but  it  must  be  thought  of  as 
having  the  ability  to  remind  other  persons  of  that  object; 
and  then  this  general  property  of  names  must  be  abstracted 
in  thought  from  many  examples,  before  the  conception  of 
a  name  can  arise.  If  now  we  remember  that  in  the  lan- 
guages of  inferior  races  the  advances  in  generalization  and 
abstraction  are  so  slight  that,  while  there  are  words  for  par- 
ticular kinds  of  trees,  there  is  no  word  for  tree,  and  that, 
as  among  the  Damaras,  while  each  reach  of  a  river  has  its 
special  title,  there  is  none  for  the  river  as  a  whole,  much  less 
a  word  for  river;  or  if,  still  better,  we  consider  the  fact  that 
the  Cherokees  have  thirteen  verbs  to  express  washing  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  body  and  different  things,  but  no  word 
for  washing,  dissociated  from  the  part  or  thing  wrashed ;  wo 
shall  see  that  social  life  must  have  passed  through  sundry 
stages,  with  their  accompanying  steps  in  linguistic  progress, 
before  the  conception  of  a  name  became  possible. 

Inductive  justification  is  not  wanting.  Unfortunately, 
in  most  vocabularies  of  the  uncivilized,  travellers  have  given 
us  only  such  equivalents  for  our  words  as  they  contain: 
taking  no  note  of  the  words  we  possess  for  which  they  have 
no  equivalents.  There  is  not  this  defect,  however,  in  the 
vocabularies  compiled  by  Mr.  F.  A.  de  Roepstorff.  From 
these  it  appears  that  the  tribes  in  Great  Mcobar,  in  Little 
Nicobar,  in  Teressa,  and  in  the  Andaman  Islands,  have  no 
words  corresponding  to  our  word  name. 

The  inference,  then,  is  inevitable.  If  there  is  no  word 
for  name,  it  is  impossible  for  the  narrators  of  legends  to 
express  the  distinction  between  a  person  and  the  object  he 
was  named  after.  The  results  of  the  confusion  we  have  now 
to  observe  in  its  relations  to  plant-worship. 

§  181.  By  the  Tasmanians,  "  the  names  of  men  and 
women  were  taken  from  natural  objects  and  occurrences 
around,  as,  for  instance,  a  kangaroo,  a  gum-tree,  snow,  hail, 
thunder,  the  wind."  Among  the  Hill-tribes  of  India  the 


364:  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

like  occurs :  "  Cotton  "  and  "  White  Cotton  "  are  names  of 
persons  among  the  Karens.  Similarly  in  North  America. 
Among  Catlin's  portraits  occur  those  of  "  The  Hard  Hick- 
ory "  a  Seneca  warrior,  Pshan-shaw  ("  the  Sweet-scented 
grass  ")  a  Riccarree  girl,  Shee-de-a  ("  Wild  Sage  ")  a  Paw- 
neepict  girl,  Mongshong-shaw  ("  the  Bending  Willow  ")  a 
Puncah  woman.  And  in  South  America  it  is  the  same. 
The  Arawaks  have  individuals  known  as  "  Tobacco,"  "  To- 
bacco-leaf," "  Tobacco-flower;  "  and  by  the  ancient  Peru- 
vians one  of  the  Yncas  was  called  "  Sayri,"  a  tobacco-plant. 

On  joining  with  these  facts  the  fact  that  by  the  Pueblos, 
one  of  the  several  tribes  into  which  they  are  divided  is  called 
the  "  Tobacco-plant  race,"  we  cannot  fail  to  recognize  an 
effect  of  this  naming  after  plants.  Associated  as  this  clan  of 
Pueblos  is  with  other  clans  named  after  the  bear,  the  prairie- 
wolf,  the  rattle-snake,  the  hare,  which  have  severally  de- 
scended from  men  called  after,  and  eventually  identified 
with,  these  animals,  the  "  Tobacco-plant  race  "  has  doubt- 
less descended  from  one  who  was  called  after,  and  event- 
ually identified  with,  the  tobacco-plant.  In  like  manner  the 
"  Reed-grass  race,"  of  these  same  people,  may  be  concluded 
to  have  had  a  kindred  derivation;  as  also,  among  the  tribes 
of  the  river  Isanna,  the  "  Mandiocca  "  race. 

Now  if  an  animal  regarded  as  original  progenitor,  is 
therefore  reverentially  treated;  so,  too,  may  we  expect  a 
plant-ancestor  will  be :  not,  perhaps,  so  conspicuously,  since 
the  powers  of  plants  to  affect  the  fates  of  human  beings  are 
less  conspicuous.  But  the  idea  of  the  sacredness  of  certain 
plants  is  likely  thus  to  originate,  and  to  generate  quasi- 
religious,  observances. 

A  converse  misinterpretation  must  here  be  noted.  Al- 
ready we  have  seen  (§  175)  that  by  the  Salish,  the  Nisqual- 
lies,  the  Yakimas,  not  only  birds  and  beasts,  but  also  edible 
roots  are  supposed  to  have  had  human  ancestors;  and  the 
way  in  which  misconstruction  of  names  might  lead  to  this 
supposition  was  indicated.  But  there  exists  a  habit  more 


PLANT-WORSHIP.  365 

specially  conducing  to  beliefs  of  this  class.  With  various 
peoples  it  is  customary  for  the  parent  to  take  a  name  from 
the  child,  and  to  be  known  after  its  birth  as  father  or  mother 
of  So-and-so:  an  instance  was  given  in  §  171,  and  the  Ma- 
lays and  Dyaks  furnish  others.  Now  if  the  child  has  either 
an  animal-name  or  a  plant-name,  the  literal  rendering  in  tra- 
dition of  the  statement  that  a  certain  man  was  "  the  father 
of  the  turtle,"  or  a  certain  woman  "  the  mother  of  maize," 
would  lead  to  the  belief  that  this  animal  or  this  plant  had  a 
human  progenitor.  In  some  cases  a  figurative  use  of  these 
names  of  parenthood,  leads  in  a  still  stranger  way  to  the  same 
error,  and  to  many  kindred  errors.  An  individual  is  re- 
garded as  the  producer,  or  generator,  of  some  attribute  by 
which  he  or  she  is  distinguished;  and  is  hence  called  the 
parent  of  that  attribute.  For  example,  Mason  tells  us  of 
the  Karens — 

"When  the  child  grows  up,  and  develops  any  particular  trait  of 
character,  the  friends  give  it  another  name,  with  '  father  '  or  '  mother ' 
attached  to  it.  Thus,  a  boy  is  very  quick  to  work,  and  he  is  named 
'Father  of  swiftness.'  If  he  is  a  good  shot  with  a  bow  and  arrow, 
he  is  called  'Father  of  shooting.'  When  a  girl  is  clever  to  contrive, 
she  is  named  '  Mother  of  contrivance. '  If  she  be  ready  to  talk,  she 
becomes  'Mother  of  talk.'  Sometimes  the  name  is  given  from  the 
personal  appearance.  Thus  a  very  white  girl  is  called  'Mother  of 
white  cotton;'  and  another  of  an  elegant  form  is  named  'Mother  of 
the  pheasant.'  " 

The  Arabs  have  a  like  habit.  Here  then  we  have  kinds 
of  names  which,  misunderstood  in  after  times,  may  initiate 
beliefs  in  the  human  ancestry  not  only  of  plants  and  animals, 
but  of  other  things. 

§  182.  An  indirect  proof  that  the  attribution  of  spirits 
to  plants,  and  the  resulting  plant-worship,  have  arisen  in 
one  or  other  of  the  ways  shown,  must  be  added. 

Did  plant-worship  arise  from  an  alleged  primeval  fetich- 
ism — were  it  one  of  the  animistic  interpretations  said  to  re- 
sult from  the  tendency  of  undeveloped  minds  to  ascribe 


3G6  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

duality  to  all  objects;  there  would  be  no  explanation  of  the 
conceived  shape  of  the  plant-spirit.  The  savage  thinks  of 
the  other-self  of  a  man,  woman,  or  child,  as  like  the  man, 
woman,  or  child,  in  figure.  If,  then,  the  conception  of  plant- 
spirits  were,  as  alleged,  sequent  upon  an  original  animism, 
preceding  and  not  succeeding  the  ghost-theory,  plant-spirits 
ought  to  be  conceived  as  plant-shaped;  and  they  ought  to 
be  conceived  as  having  other  attributes  like  those  of  plants. 
Nothing  of  the  kind  is  found.  They  are  not  supposed  to 
have  any  plant-characters;  and  they  are  supposed  to  have 
many  characters  unlike  those  of  plants.  Observe  the  facts. 

In  the  East  there  are  stories  of  speaking  trees:  to  the 
indwelling  doubles  is  attributed  a  faculty  which  the  trees 
themselves  have  not.  The  Congo-people  place  calabashes 
of  palm-wine  at  the  feet  of  their  sacred  trees,  lest  they  should 
be  thirsty :  they  ascribe  to  them  a  liking  not  shown  by  trees, 
but  treat  them  as  they  do  their  dead.  In  like  manner  the 
statement  quoted  by  Sir  J.  Lubbock  from  Oldfield,  who, 
at  Addacoodah,  saw  fowls  and  many  other  things  suspended 
as  offerings  to  a  gigantic  tree ;  the  statement  of  Mr.  Tylor, 
who,  to  an  ancient  cypress  in  Mexico,  found  attached  by 
the  Indians,  teeth  and  locks  of  hair  in  great  numbers;  the' 
statement  of  Hunter  that  once  a  year,  at  Beerbhoom,  the 
Santals  "  make  simple  offerings  to  a  ghost  who  dwells  in 
a  Bela-tree;  "  unite  to  show  that  not  the  tree,  but  the  resi- 
dent being,  is  propitiated;  and  that  this  has  characters  ut- 
terly unlike  those  of  a  tree,  and  completely  like  those  of  a 
human  being.  Further,  in  some  Egyptian  wall-paintings, 
female  forms  are  represented  as  emerging  from  trees  and 
dispensing  blessings. 

Still  more  conclusive  is  the  direct  evidence.  The  Sara- 
wak people  believe  men  are  sometimes  metamorphosed  into 
trees;  and  Low  further  says  that  the  Land-Dyaks  venerate 
certain  plants,  building  small  bamboo  altars  near  them,  to 
which  is  placed  a  ladder  to  facilitate  the  ascent  of  the  spirits 
to  the  offerings,  consisting  of  food,  water,  etc.,  placed  on 


PLANT-WORSHIP.  367 

the  altar  on  festive  occasions.  Equally  specific  is  the  con- 
ception of  the  Iroquois.  By  them  the  spirit  of  corn,  the 
spirit  of  beans,  the  spirit  of  squashes,  "  are  supposed  to  have 
the  forms  of  beautiful  females:  "  recalling  the  dryads  of 
classic  mythology,  who,  similarly  conceived  as  human- 
shaped  female  spirits,  were  sacrificed  to  in  the  same  ways 
that  human  spirits  in  general  were  sacrificed  to.  And  then, 
lastly,  we  have  the  fact  that  by  the  Santals  these  spirits  or 
ghosts  are  individualized.  At  their  festivals  the  separate 
families  "  dance  around  the  particular  trees  which  they 
fancy  their  domestic  lares  chiefly  haunt." 

Harmonizing  with  the  foregoing  interpretations,  these 
facts  are  incongruous  with  the  animistic  interpretation. 

§  183.  Plant- worship,  then,  like  the  worship  of  idols  and 
animals,  is  an  aberrant  species  of  ancestor-worship — a  spe- 
cies somewhat  more  disguised  externally,  but  having  the 
same  internal  nature.  Though  it  develops  in  three  differ- 
ent directions,  there  is  but  one  origin. 

The  toxic  excitements  produced  by  certain  plants,  or  by 
extracts  from  them,  or  by  their  fermented  juices,  are  classed 
with  other  excitements,  as  caused  by  spirits  or  demons. 
Where  the  stimulation  is  agreeable,  the  possessing  spirit, 
taken  in  with  the  drug,  is  regarded  as  a  beneficent  being — 
a  being  sometimes  identified  with  a  human  original  and  grad- 
ually exalted  into  a  divinity  who  is  lauded  and  prayed  to. 

Tribes  that  have  come  out  of  places  characterized  by 
particular  trees  or  plants,  unawares  change  the  legend  of 
emergence  from  them  into  the  legend  of  descent  from  them : 
words  fitted  to  convey  the  distinction  not  being  contained 
in  their  vocabularies.  Hence  the  belief  that  such  trees  are 
their  ancestors;  and  hence  the  regard  for  them  as  sacred. 

Further,  the  naming  of  individuals  after  plants  becomes 
a  cause  of  confusion.  Identification  of  the  two  in  tradition 
can  be  prevented  only  by  the  use  of  verbal  qualifications  that 
are  impossible  in  rude  languages;  and  from  the  unchecked 


368  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

identification  there  arise  ideas  and  sentiments  respecting 
the  plant-ancestor,  allied  to  those  excited  by  the  animal- 
ancestor  or  the  ancestor  figured  as  human. 

Thus  the  ghost-theory,  supplying  us  with  a  key  to  other 
groups  of  superstitions,  supplies  us  with  a  key  to  the  super- 
stitions constituting  this  group — superstitions  otherwise  im- 
plying gratuitous  absurdities  which  we  may  not  legitimately 
ascribe  even  to  primitive  men. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

NATURE-WORSHIP. 

§  184.  UNDER  this  title  which,  literally  interpreted, 
covers  the  subject-matters  of  the  last  two  chapters,  but 
which,  as  conventionally  used,  has  a  narrower  meaning,  it 
remains  to  deal  with  superstitious  beliefs  concerning  the 
more  conspicuous  inorganic  objects  and  powers. 

If  not  prepossessed  by  other  theories,  the  reader  will 
anticipate  parallelism  between  the  genesis  of  these  beliefs 
and  the  genesis  of  those  already  dealt  with.  That  their  der- 
ivation is  wholly  unlike  all  derivations  thus  far  traced,  will 
seem  improbable.  He  will,  indeed,  see  that  some  of  the  rea- 
sons for  identifying  the  adored  object  with  a  departed 
human  being,  no  longer  apply.  Sun  and  Moon  do  not  come 
into  the  old  home  or  haunt  the  burial-cave,  as  certain  ani- 
mals do;  and  therefore  cannot  for  this  reason  be  regarded 
as  spirits  of  the  dead.  Seas  and  mountains  have  not,  in  com- 
mon with  certain  plants,  the  trait  that  parts  of  them  when 
swallowed  produce  nervous  exaltation;  and  ascription  of 
divine  natures  to  them  cannot  thus  be  accounted  for.  But 
there  remain,  as  common  causes,  the  misinterpretation  of 
traditions  and  the  misinterpretation  of  names.  Before  deal- 
ing with  these  linguistic  sources  of  Nature-worship,  let  me 
point  out  a  further  imperfection  in  undeveloped  speech 
which  co-operates  with  the  other  imperfections. 

In  the  Personal  Recollections  of  Mrs.  Somerville,  she 

savs  that  her  little  brother,  on  seeing  the  great  meteor  of 

369 


370  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

1783,  exclaimed,  "  O,  Mamma,  there?s  the  moon  rinnin' 
awa."  This  description  of  an  inorganic  motion  by  a  word 
rightly  applied  only  to  an  organic  motion,  illustrates  a  pe- 
culiarity of  the  speech  used  by  children  and  savages.  A 
child's  vocabulary  consists  mainly  of  words  referring  to 
those  living  beings  which  chiefly  affect  it;  and  its  statements 
respecting  non-living  things  and  motions,  show  a  lack  of 
words  free  from  implications  of  vitality.  The  statements 
of  uncivilized  men  are  similarly  characterized.  The  inland 
negroes  who  accompanied  Livingstone  to  the  west  coast,  and 
on  their  return  narrated  their  adventures,  described  their 
arrival  at  the  sea  by  the  words — "  The  world  said  to  us  f  I 
am  finished ;  there  is  no  more  of  me.' '  Like  in  form  and 
like  in  implication  were  the  answers  given  to  a  correspondent 
who  was  in  Ashantee  during  the  late  war. 

"I  exclaimed,  'We  ought  to  be  at  Beulah  by  now,  surely.  But 
what's  that  ?  '  The  answer  came  from  our  guide.  '  That,  sar,  plenty 
of  water  live,  bimeby  we  walkee  cross  him.'  'Where's  Beulah, 
then  ? '  '  Oh,  Beulah  live  other  side  him  big  hill.'  " 
So,  too,  is  it  with  the  remark  which  a  Bechuana  chief  made 
to  Casalis — "  One  event  is  always  the  son  of  another,  .  .  . 
and  we  must  never  forget  the  genealogy."  The  general 
truth  that  the  poorer  a  language  the  more  metaphorical  it  is, 
and  the  derivative  truth  that  being  first  developed  to  express 
human  affairs,  it  carries  with  it  certain  human  implications 
when  extended  to  the  world  around,  is  well  shown  by  the 
fact  that  even  still  our  word  "  to  be  "  is  traced  back  to  a 
word  meaning  "  to  breathe."  Manifestly  this  de- 

fect in  early  speech  conspires  with  the  defects  we  have 
already  observed,  in  favouring  personalization.  If  any- 
thing raises  the  suspicion  that  an  inorganic  mass  was  once 
a  human  being,  or  is  inhabited  by  the  ghost  of  one,  the  neces- 
sity of  using  words  implying  life,  fosters  the  suspicion. 
Taken  alone,  this  defect  has  probably  little  influence. 
Though  a  fetichistic  system  logically  elaborated,  may  lead 
to  the  conclusion  that  boiling  water  is  alive;  yet  I  see  no 


NATURE-WORSHIP.  371 

evidence  that  the  child  who  remarks  of  the  boiling  water 
that  "  it  says  bubble,  bubble,"  is  led  by  the  use  of  the  word 
"says"  to  believe  the  water  a  living  being;  nor  is  there 
any  indication  that  the  negro  who  represented  the  Earth 
as  saying  "  I  am  finished,"  therefore  conceived  the  Earth 
as  a  speaking  creature.  All  we  can  safely  say  is  that,  given 
personalizations  otherwise  caused,  and  the  use  of  these  life- 
implying  words  will  confirm  them.  In  the  case  of  Nature- 
worship,  as  in  the  cases  of  Animal-worship  and  Plant-wor- 
ship, the  misleading  beliefs  due  to  language,  take  their  rise 
from  positive  statements  accepted  on  authority,  and  unavoid- 
ably misinterpreted. 

Yet  another  cause  of  misinterpretation  is  the  extremely 
variable  use  of  words  in  undeveloped  speech,  and  consequent 
wide  differences  of  interpretation  given  to  them.  Here  is 
a  passage  from  Krapf  which  well  exemplifies  this : — 

"  To  the  question,  what  precise  meaning  the  Wanika  attach  to  the 
word  Mulungu  ?  one  said  that  Mulungu  was  thunder;  some  thought 
it  meant  heaven,  the  visible  sky ;  some,  again,  were  of  opinion  that 
Mulungu  was  the  being  who  caused  diseases;  whilst  others,  however, 
still  held  fast  to  a  feeble  notion  of  a  Supreme  Being  as  expressed  by 
that  word.  Some,  too,  believe  that  every  man  becomes  a  Mulungu 
after  death." 

IsTow  when  we  are  also  told  that  Mulungu  is  the  name  ap- 
plied by  the  East  Africans  to  their  king — when  we  find  that 
the  same  word  is  employed  to  mean  thunder,  the  sky,  the 
chief  man,  an  ordinary  ghost,  it  becomes  manifest  that  per- 
sonalization of  the  great  natural  objects  and  powers,  is  not 
only  easy  but  almost  inevitable. 

In  thus  foreshadowing  the  conclusion  that  the  worship 
of  conspicuous  objects  and  powers  around,  conceived  as 
persons,  results  from  linguistic  errors,  I  appear  to  be  indicat- 
ing agreement  with  the  mythologists.  But  though  miscon- 
struction of  words  is  on  both  hypotheses  the  alleged  cause, 
the  misconstruction  is  different  in  kind  and  the  erroneous 
course  of  thought  opposite  in  direction.  The  mythologists 
hold  that  the  powers  of  nature,  at  first  conceived  and  wor- 


372  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

shipped  as  impersonal,  come  to  be  personalized  because  of 
certain  characters  in  the  words  applied  to  them;  and  that 
the  legends  concerning  the  persons  identified  with  these  nat- 
ural powers  arise  afterwards.  Contrariwise,  the  view  here 
held  is  that  the  human  personality  is  the  primary  element; 
that  the  identification  of  this  with  some  natural  power  or 
object  is  due  to  identity  of  name;  and  that  the  worship  of 
this  natural  power  thus  arises  secondarily. 

That  the  contrast  between  these  two  modes  of  interpreta- 
tion may  be  clearly  understood,  let  us  take  an  illustration. 

§  185.  All  winter  the  beautiful  Sunshine,  pursued  by 
the  dark  Storm,  was  ever  hiding  herself — now  behind  the 
clouds,  now  below  the  mountains.  She  could  not  steal  forth 
from  her  concealment  for  more  than  a  short  time  without 
being  again  chased  with  swift  footsteps  and  loud  thundering 
noise ;  and  had  quickly  to  retreat.  After  many  moons,  how- 
ever, the  Storm,  chasing  less  furiously  and  seeing  her  more 
clearly,  became  gentler;  and  Sunshine,  gaining  courage, 
from  time  to  time  remained  longer  visible.  Storm  failing 
to  capture  by  pursuit,  and  softened  by  her  charms,  made 
milder  advances.  Finally  came  their  union.  Then  the 
Earth  rejoiced  in  the  moist  warmth;  and  from  them  were 
born  plants  which  covered  its  surface  and  made  it  gay  with 
flowers.  But  every  autumn  Storm  begins  to  frown  and 
growl;  Sunshine  flies  from  him;  and  the  pursuit  begins 
again. 

Supposing  the  Tasmanians  had  been  found  by  us  in  a 
semi-civilized  state  with  a  mythology  containing  some  such 
legend  as  this,  the  unhesitating  interpretation  put  upon  it, 
after  the  method  now  accepted,  would  be  that  the  observed 
effects  of  mingled  sunshine  and  storm  were  thus  figuratively 
expressed;  and  that  the  ultimate  representation  of  Sun- 
shine and  Storm  as  persons  who  once  lived  on  the  Earth, 
was  due  to  the  natural  mythopceic  tendency,  which  took 
its  direction  from  the  genders  of  the  words. 


NATURE-WORSHIP.  373 

Contrariwise,  how  would  such  a  supposed  Tasmanian 
legend  be  explained  in  pursuance  of  the  hypothesis  here 
set  forth?  As  already  shown,  birth-names  among  uncivil- 
ized races,  taken  from  the  incidents  of  the  moment,  often 
refer  to  the  time  of  day  and  the  weather.  Catlin  gives  us 
portraits  of  Ojibbeway  Indians  named  "  The  Driving 
Cloud,"  "The  Moonlight  Night,"  "  The  Hail  Storm." 
Among  names  which  Mason  enumerates  as  given  by  the 
Karens,  are  "  Evening,"  "  Moon-rising,"  etc.  Hence  there 
is  nothing  anomalous  in  the  fact  that  "  Ploo-ra-na-loo-na," 
meaning  Sunshine,  is  the  name  of  a  Tasmanian  woman; 
nor  is  there  anything  anomalous  in  the  fact  that  among  the 
Tasmanians  "  Hail,"  "  Thunder,"  and  "  Wind  "  occur  as 
names,  as  they  do  among  the  American  Indians  as  shown 
by  Catlin's  portraits  of  "  The  Bearing  Thunder,"  "  The 
Eed  Thunder,"  "The  Strong  Wind,"  "The  Walking 
Rain."  The  inference  here  drawn,  therefore,  harmonizing 
with  all  preceding  inferences,  is  that  the  initial  step  in  the 
genesis  of  such  a  myth,  would  be  the  naming  of  human 
beings  Storm  and  Sunshine;  that  from  the  confusion  in- 
evitably arising  in  tradition  between  them  and  the  natural 
agents  having  the  same  names,  would  result  this  personal- 
izing of  these  natural  agents,  and  the  ascription  to  them  of 
human  origins  and  human  adventures:  the  legend,  once 
having  thus  germinated,  being,  in  successive  generations, 
elaborated  and  moulded  into  fitness  with  the  phenomena. 

Let  us  now  consider  more  closely  which  of  these  two 
hypotheses  is  most  congruous  with  the  laws  of  mind,  and 
with  the  facts  as  various  races  present  them. 

§  186.  Human  intelligence,  civilized  and  savage,  in 
common  with  intelligence  at  large,  proceeds  by  the  classing 
of  objects,  attributes,  acts,  each  with  its  kind.  The  very 
nature  of  intelligence,  then,  forbids  the  assumption  that 
primitive  men  will  gratuitously  class  unlike  things  as  akin 
to  one  another.  In  proportion  as  the  unlikeness  is  great 
25 


THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

must  there  be  great  resistance  to  putting  them  in  the  same 
group.  And  if  things  wholly  unallied  are  bracketed  as  of 
the  same  nature,  some  strong  mental  bias  must  furnish  the 
needful  coercive  force. 

What  likeness  can  we  find  between  a  man  and  a  moun- 
tain? Save  that  they  both  consist  of  matter,  scarcely  any. 
The  one  is  vast,  the  other  relatively  minute;  the  one  is  of 
no  definite  shape,  the  other  symmetrical;  the  one  is  fixed, 
the  other  locomotive ;  the  one  is  cold,  the  other  warm ;  the 
one  is  of  dense  substance,  the  other  quite  soft;  the  one  has 
little  internal  structure  and  that  irregular,  the  other  is 
elaborately  structured  internally  in  a  definite  way.  Hence 
the  classing  of  them  in  thought  as  akin,  is  repugnant  to  the 
laws  of  thought ;  and  nothing  but  unlimited  faith  can  cause 
a  belief  in  their  alleged  relationship  as  progenitor  and 
progeny.  There  are,  however,  misinterpreted  statements 
which  lead  to  this  belief. 

Read  first  the  following  passages  from  Bancroft: — 

"Ikanam,  the  creator  of  the  universe,  is  a  powerful  deity  among 
the  Chinooks,  who  have  a  mountain  named  after  him  from  a  belief 
that  he  there  turned  himself  into  stone." 

4 '  The  Californian  tribes  believe  .  .  .  the  Navajos  came  to  light 
from  the  bowels  of  a  great  mountain  near  the  river  San  Juan." 

"  The  citizens  of  Mexico  and  those  of  Tlatelolco  were  wont  to  visit 
a  hill  called  Cacatepec,  for  they  said  it  was  their  mother." 

Of  the  Mexicans  Prescott  writes : — "  A  puerile  superstition 
of  the  Indians  regarded  these  celebrated  mountains  as  gods, 
and  Iztaccihuatl  as  the  wife  of  her  more  formidable  neigh- 
bour," Popocatepetl.  Of  the  Peruvians,  who  worshipped 
the  snow-mountains,  we  read  that  at  Potosi  "  there  is  a 
smaller  hill,  very  similar  to  the  former  one,  and  the  Indians 
say  that  it  is  its  son,  and  call  it  ...  the  younger  Potosi." 
Now  observe  the  clue  to  these  beliefs  furnished  by  Molina. 
He  says  the  principal  huaca  of  the  Yncas  was  that  of  the 
hill,  Ilnanacanri,  whence  their  ancestors  were  said  to  have 
commenced  their  journey.  It  is  described  as  "  a  £reat  figure 


NATURE-WORSHIP.  375 

of  a  man."  "  This  huaca  was  of  Ayar-cachi,  one  of  the 
four  brothers  who  were  said  to  have  come  out  of  the  cave  at 
Tampu."  And  a  prayer  addressed  to  it  was: — "  O  Huana- 
cauri !  our  father,  may  .  .  .  thy  son,  the  Ynca,  always  re- 
tain his  youth,  and  grant  that  he  may  prosper  in  all  he  under- 
takes. And  to  us,  thy  sons,"  etc. 

One  way  in  which  a  mountain  comes  to  be  worshipped  as 
ancestor,  is  here  made  manifest.  It  is  the  place  whence  the 
race  came,  the  source  of  the  race,  the  parent  of  the  race :  the 
distinctions  implied  by  the  different  words  here  used  being, 
in  rude  languages,  inexpressible.  Either  the  early  progeni- 
tors of  a  tribe  were  dwellers  in  caves  on  the  mountain;  or 
the  mountain,  marking  conspicuously  the  elevated  region 
they  migrated  from,  is  identified  as  the  object  whence  they 
sprang.  We  find  this  connexion  of  ideas  elsewhere.  Vari- 
ous peoples  of  India  who  have  spread  from  the  Himalayas 
to  the  lower  lands,  point  to  the  snowy  peaks  as  the  other 
world  to  which  their  dead  return.  Among  some,  the  tradi- 
tional migration  has  become  a  genesis,  and  has  originated 
a  worship.  Thus  the  Santals  regard  the  eastern  Himalayas 
as  their  natal  region;  and  Hunter  tells  us  that  "  the  national 
god  of  the  Santals  is  Marang  Bum,  the  great  mountain," 
who  is  "  the  divinity  who  watched  over  their  birth,"  and  who 
"  is  invoked  with  bloody  offerings." 

When  we  remember  that  even  now  among  ourselves,  a 
Scotch  laird,  called  by  the  name  of  his  place,  is  verbally 
identified  with  it,  and  niight  in  times  when  language  was 
vague  have  readily  become  confounded  in  legend  with  the 
high  stronghold  in  which  he  lived;  when  we  remember, 
too,  that  even  now,  in  our  developed  language,  the  word 
"  descend  "  means  either  coming  down  from  a  higher  level 
or  coming  down  from  an  ancestor,  and  depends  for  its  inter- 
pretation on  the  context;  we  cannot,  in  presence  of  the 
above  facts,  doubt  that  moimtain-worship  in  some  cases 
arises  from  mistaking  the  traditional  source  of  the  race  for 
the  traditional  parentage  of  the  race.  This  interpretation 


376  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

strengthens,  and  is  strengthened  by,  a  kindred  interpreta- 
tion of  tree-worship  given  in  the  last  chapter. 

There  is  another  possible  linguistic  cause  for  concep- 
tions of  this  kind.  "  Mountain  "  and  "  Great  Mountain  " 
are  used  by  primitive  men  as  names  of  honour:  the  king 
of  Pango-Pango  (Samoa)  is  thus  addressed.  Elsewhere  I 
have  suggested  that  a  personal  name  arising  in  this  way,  may 
have  initiated  the  belief  of  the  New  Zealand  chief,  who 
claimed  the  neighbouring  volcano,  Tongariro,  as  his  ances- 
tor: such  ancestor  possibly  having  acquired  this  metaphori- 
cal name  as  expressive  of  his  fiery  nature.  One  further  fact 
may  be  added  in  support  of  the  belief  that  in  some  cases 
mountain-worship  thus  arises  as  an  aberrant  form  of  ances- 
tor-worship. Writing  of  the  Araucanians,  and  stating  that 
"  there  is  scarcely  a  material  object  which  does  not  furnish 
them  with  a  discriminative  name  "  of  a  family,  Thompson 
specifies  "  Mountains  "  as  among  their  family  names. 

§  187.  Save  in  respect  of  its  motion,  which,  however, 
is  of  utterly  different  character,  the  Sea  has  even  less  in 
common  with  a  man  than  a  mountain  has :  in  form,  in 
liquidity,  in  structurelessness,  it  is  still  more  unlike  a  per- 
son. Yet  the  Sea  has  been  personalized  and  worshipped, 
alike  in  the  ancient  East  and  in  the  West.  Arriaga  says  of 
the  Peruvians  that  "  all  who  descend  from  the  Sierra  to  the 
plains  worship  the  sea  when  they  approach  it,  and  pull  out 
the  hair  of  their  eyebrows,  and  offer  it  up,  and  pray  not  to 
get  sick."  Whence  this  superstition? 

We  have  inferred  that  confusing  the  derivation  from  a 
place  with  the  derivation  of  parenthood,  has  led  to  the  wor- 
ship both  of  mountains  and  of  the  trees  composing  a  forest 
once  dwelt  in.  Ocean-worship  seems  to  have  had,  in  some 
cases,  a  parellel  genesis.  Though  when  we  call  sailors  "  sea- 
men," our  organized  knowledge  and  developed  language 
save  us  from  the  error  which  literal  interpretation  might 
cause;  yet  a  primitive  people  on  whose  shores  there  arrived 


NATUR&-WORSHIP.  377 

unknown  men  from  an  unknown  source,  and  who  spoke  of 
them  as  "  men  of  the  sea,"  would  be  very  apt  thus  to  origi- 
nate a  tradition  describing  them  as  coming  out  of  the  sea  or 
being  produced  by  it.  The  change  from  "  men  of  the  sea  " 
to  "  children  of  the  sea  "  is  an  easy  one — one  paralleled  by 
figures  of  speech  among  ourselves;  and  from  the  name 
"  children  of  the  sea  "  legend  would  naturally  evolve  a  con- 
ception of  the  sea  as  generator  or  parent.  Trustworthy  evi- 
dence in  support  of  this  conclusion,  I  cannot  furnish. 
Though  concerning  Peruvians,  the  Italian  Benzoni  says — 
"  They  think  that  we  are  a  congelation  of  the  sea,  and  have 
been  nourished  by  the  froth;  "  yet  this  statement,  remind- 
ing us  of  the  Greek  myth  of  Aphrodite,  is  attributed  to  a 
verbal  misconstruction  of  his.  Still  it  may  be  held  that  by 
a  savage  or  semi-civilized  people,  who  are  without  even  the 
idea  of  lands  beyond  the  ocean-horizon,  there  can  hardly 
be  formed  any  other  conception  of  marine  invaders,  who 
have  no  apparent  origin  but  the  ocean  itself. 

That  belief  in  descent  from  the  Sea  as  a  progenitor  some- 
times arises  through  misinterpretation  of  individual  names, 
is  likely.  Indirect  evidence  is  yielded  by  the  fact  that  a 
native  religious  reformer  who  appeared  among  the  Iroquois 
about  1800  was  called  "  Handsome  Lake;  "  and  if  "  lake  " 
may  become  a  proper  name,  it  seems  not  improbable  that 
"  ocean  "  may  do  so.  There  is  direct  evidence  too ;  namely 
the  statement  of  Garcilasso,  already  quoted  in  another  con- 
nexion (§  164),  that  the  Sea  was  claimed  by  some  clans  of 
Peruvians  as  their  ancestor. 

§  188.  If  asked  to  instance  a  familiar  appearance  still 
less  human  in  its  attributes  than  a  mountain  or  the  sea,  we 
might,  after  reflection,  hit  on  the  one  to  be  next  dealt  with, 
the  Dawn,  as  perhaps  the  most  remote  imaginable :  having 
not  even  tangibility,  nor  definite  shape,  nor  duration.  "Was 
the  primitive  man,  then,  led  by  linguistic  needs  to  personal- 
ize the  Dawn?  And,  having  personalized  it,  did  he  invent 


378  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

a  biography  for  it?  Affirmative  answers  are  currently 
given;  but  with  very  little  warrant. 

Treating  of  the  dawn-myth,  Prof.  Max  Miiller,  in  his 
Lectures  on  the  Science  of  Language,  takes  first  Sarama" 
as  one  embodiment  of  the  dawn.  He  quotes  with  qualified 
assent  Prof.  Kuhn's  "  conclusion  that  Sarama"  meant  storm." 
He  does  not  doubt  that  "  the  root  of  Sarama*  is  sar,  to  go." 
He  says: — "  Admitting  that  Sarama*  meant  originally  the 
runner,  how  does  it  follow  that  the  runner  was  meant  for 
storm? "  Recognizing  the  fact  that  an  allied  word  meant 
wind  and  cloud,  he  alleges  that  this  is  habitually  masculine 
in  Sanscrit;  but  admits  that  if  the  Veda  gave  Sarama*  the 
"  qualities  of  the  wind  "  this  incongruity  "  would  be  no  in- 
surmountable objection."  He  then  gives  SaramS's  adven- 
tures in  search  of  the  cows;  and  says  it  yields  no  evidence 
that  Samara*  is  "  representative  of  the  storm."  After  say- 
ing that  in  a  fuller  version  of  the  story,  SaramS  is  described 
as  "  the  dog  of  the  gods  "  sent  by  Indra  "  to  look  for  the 
cows  " — after  giving  from  another  source  the  statements 
that  SaramS,  refusing  to  share  the  cows  with  them,  asks  the 
robbers  for  a  drink  of  inilk,  returns  and  tells  a  lie  to  Indra, 
is  kicked  by  him,  and  vomits  the  milk,  Prof.  Max  Miiller 
gives  his  own  interpretation.  He  says: — 

"  This  being  nearly  the  whole  evidence  on  which  we  must  form 
our  opinion  of  the  original  conception  of  Sarama,  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  she  was  meant  for  the  early  dawn,  and  not  for  the  storm." 
Here,  then,  we  have  a  sample  of  myth-rendering.  It  is 
agreed  that  the  root  is  sar,  to  go;  from  which  one  distin- 
guished philologist  infers  that  Sarama  meant  the  runner  and 
therefore  the  storm  (allied  words  meaning  wind  and  cloud); 
while  another  distinguished  philologist  thinks  this  inference 
erroneous.  SaramS  in  the  legend  is  a  woman ;  and  in  some 
versions  a  dog.  It  is,  however,  concluded  that  she  is  the 
dawn,  because  an  epithet  applied  to  her  means  quick;  and 
because  another  epithet  means  fortunate;  and  because  she 
appears  before  Indra;  and  because  of  sundry  metaphors 


NATURE-WORSHIP.  379 

which,  if  cows  stand  for  clouds,  may  be  applied  figuratively 
to  mean  the  dawn.  On  the  strength  of  these  vague  agree- 
ments Prof.  Max  Miiller  thinks — 

"The  myth  of  which  we  have  collected  the  fragments  is  clear 
enough.  It  is  a  reproduction  of  the  old  story  of  the  break  of  day. 
The  bright  cows,  the  rays  of  the  sun  or  the  rain-clouds — for  both  go 
by  the  same  name — have  been  stolen  by  the  powers  of  darkness,  by 
the  Night  and  her  manifold  progeny,"  etc.,  etc. 

Thus,  notwithstanding  all  the  discrepancies  and  contra- 
dictions, and  though  the  root  of  the  name  gives  no  colour 
to  the  interpretation,  yet  because  of  certain  metaphors 
(which  in  primitive  speech  are  so  loosely  used  as  to  mean 
almost  anything)  we  are  asked  to  believe  that  men  personal- 
ized a  transitory  appearance  as  unlike  humanity  as  can  be 
conceived. 

Whatever  difficulties  stand  in  the  way  of  the  alternative 
interpretation,  it  has  facts  instead  of  hypotheses  to  start 
from.  It  may  be  that  sometimes  Dawn  is  a  complimentary 
metaphorical  name  given  to  a  rosy  girl;  though  I  can  give 
no  evidence  of  this.  But  that  Dawn  is  a  birth-name,  we 
have  clear  proof.  Naming  the  newly-born  from  concurrent 
events,  we  have  seen  to  be  a  primitive  practice.  Of  names 
so  originating  among  the  Karens,  Mason  instances  "  Har- 
vest," "  February,"  "  Father-returned."  As  we  saw  (§  185), 
he  shows  that  times  of  the  day  are  similarly  utilized;  and 
among  the  names  hence  derived,  he  gives  "  Sunrise."  South 
America  supplies  an  instance.  Hans  Stade  was  present  at 
the  naming  of  a  child  among  the  Tupis,  who  was  called 
Koem — the  morning  (one  of  its  forefathers  having  also  been 
similarly  named) ;  and  Captain  Burton,  the  editor,  adds  in  a 
note  that  Co£ma  piranga  means  literally  the  morning-red  or 
Aurora.  Another  case  occurs  in  New  Zealand.  Rangi- 
hacata,  a  Maori  chief's  name,  is  interpreted  "  heavenly 
dawn;  "  ("  lightning  of  heaven  "  being  another  chief's 
name).  If,  then,  Dawn  is  an  actual  name  for  a  person — if  it 
has  probably  often  been  given  to  those  born  early  in  the 


380  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

morning;  the  traditions  concerning  one  of  such  who  be- 
came noted,  would,  in  the  mind  of  the  uncritical  savage,  lead 
to  identification  with  the  Dawn;  and  the  adventures  would 
be  interpreted  in  such  manner  as  the  phenomena  of  the 
Dawn  made  most  feasible.  Further,  in  regions  where  this 
name  had  been  borne  either  by  members  of  adjacent  tribes, 
or  by  members  of  the  same  tribe  living  at  different  times, 
incongruous  genealogies  and  conflicting  adventures  of  the 
Dawn  would  result. 

§  189.  Is  there  a  kindred  origin  for  the  worship  of  Stars? 
Can  these  also  become  identified  with  ancestors?  This 
seems  difficult  to  conceive;  and  yet  there  are  facts  justify- 
ing the  suspicion  that  it  has  been  so. 

The  Jews  regarded  stars  as  living  beings  who  in  some 
cases  transgressed  and  were  punished;  and  kindred  notions 
of  their  animation  existed  among  the  Greeks.  If  we  ask 
for  the  earlier  forms  of  such  beliefs,  which  now  appear  so 
strange,  savages  supply  them.  The  Patagonians  say  "  that 
the  stars  are  old  Indians."  "  In  Fiji  large  '  shooting  stars  ' 
are  said  to  be  gods;  smaller  ones,  the  departing  souls  of 
men."  The  Hervey  Islanders  think  that  the  ghosts  of  war- 
riors killed  in  battle,  go  to  the  top  of  a  mountain  and  "  leap 
into  the  azure  expanse,  where  they  float  as  specks.  Hence 
this  elysium  of  the  brave  is  often  called  speckland  "  [i.e., 
star-land:  they  become  stars].  The  South  Australians 
think  "  the  constellations  are  groups  of  children."  "  Three 
stars  in  one  of  the  constellations  are  said  to  have  been  for- 
merly on  the  Earth :  one  is  the  man,  another  his  wife,  and 
the  smaller  one  their  dog;  and  their  employment  is  that  of 
hunting  opossums  through  the  sky."  The  implication  that 
human  beings  get  into  the  heavens,  recurs  in  the  Tasma- 
nian  tradition  that  fire  was  brought  by  two  black  fellows, 
who  threw  the  fire  among  the  Tasmanians,  and  after  staying 
awhile  in  the  land,  became  the  two  stars,  Castor  and  Pollux. 
Possibly  the  genesis  of  this  story  was  that  the  coupled  lights 


NATURE-WORSHIP.  381 

of  these  stars  were  fancied  to  be  the  distant  fires  lighted  by 
these  men  after  they  went  away.  Such  a  conception  occurs 
among  the  North  Americans,  who  say  that  the  Milky  Way 
is  "  the  '  Path  of  Spirits,'  '  the  Road  of  Souls,'  where  they 
travel  to  the  land  beyond  the  grave,  and  where  their  camp- 
fires  may  be  seen  blazing  as  brighter  stars."  It  harmonizes, 
too,  with  the  still  more  concrete  belief  of  some  North  Ameri- 
cans, that  their  medicine-men  have  gone  up  through  holes 
in  the  sky,  have  found  the  Sun  and  Moon  walking  about 
there  like  human  creatures,  have  walked  about  with  them, 
and  looked  down  through  their  peepholes  upon  the  Earth 
below. 

Definite  explanation  of  such  ideas  is  difficult  so  long  as 
we  frame  hypotheses  only ;  but  it  becomes  less  difficult  when 
we  turn  to  the  facts.  These  same  peoples  have  a  legend 
yielding  us  a  feasible  solution.  First  noting  that  Robinson 
describes  certain  other  Californians  as  worshipping  for  their 
chief  god  something  in  the  form  of  a  stuffed  coyote,  read 
this  legend  of  the  Coyote,  current  among  one  of  the  Cali- 
fornian  tribes — the  Cahrocs.  The  Coyote  was — 
"  so  proud  that  he  determined  to  have  a  dance  through  heaven  itself, 
having  chosen  as  his  partner  a  certain  star  that  used  to  pass  quite 
close  by  a  mountain  where  he  spent  a  good  deal  of  his  time.  So  he 
called  out  to  the  star  to  take  him  by  the  paw  and  they  would  go 
round  the  world  together  for  a  night ;  but  the  star  only  laughed,  and 
winked  in  an  excessively  provoking  way  from  time  to  time.  The 
Coyote  persisted  angrily  in  his  demand,  and  barked  and  barked  at 
the  star  all  round  heaven,  till  the  twinkling  thing  grew  tired  of  his 
noise  and  told  him  to  be  quiet  and  he  should  be  taken  nxet  night. 
Next  night  the  star  came  quite  up  close  to  the  cliff  where  the  Coyote 
stood,  who  leaping  was  able  to  catch  on.  Away  they  danced  to- 
gether through  the  blue  heavens.  Fine  sport  it  was  for  a  while ;  but 
oh,  it  grew  bitter  cold  up  there  for  a  Coyote  of  the  earth,  and  it  was 
an  awful  sight  to  look  down  to  where  the  broad  Elamath  lay  like  a 
slack  bow-string  and  the  Cahroc  villages  like  arrow-heads.  Woe  for 
the  Coyote!  his  numb  paws  have  slipped  their  hold  on  his  bright 
companion;  dark  is  the  partner  that  leads  the  dance  now,  and  the 
name  of  him  is  Death.  Ten  long  snows  the  Coyote  is  in  falling,  and 


382  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

when  he  strikes  the  earth  he  is  'smashed  as  flat  as  a  willow-mat.' — 
Coyotes  must  not  dance  with  stars." 

When  we  remember  that  this  conception  of  the  heavens  as 
resting  on,  or  adjacent  to,  the  mountain  tops,  is  general 
among  the  uncivilized  and  semi-civilized;  and  that  access  to 
the  heavens  after  some  such  method  as  the  one  described, 
presents  no  difficulty  to  the  uncritical  mind  of  the  primitive 
man;  the  identification  of  stars  with  persons  will  seem  less 
incomprehensible.  Though  the  ancestral  coyote  meets  with 
a  catastrophe,  like  catastrophes  are  not  necessarily  alleged 
of  other  ancestral  animals  who  thus  get  into  the  heavens. 
Special  hills,  and  special  groups  of  stars  seen  to  rise  from 
behind  them,  being  identified  as  those  referred  to  in  the 
legends,  the  animal-ancestors  said  to  have  ascended  may 
become  known  as  constellations.  Here,  at  least,  seems  a 
feasible  explanation  of  the  strange  fact,  that  the  names  of 
animals  and  men  were,  in  early  times,  given  to  clusters 
of  stars  which  in  no  way  suggest  them  by  their  appear- 
ances. 

That  misinterpretation  of  proper  names  and  metaphori- 
cal titles  has  played  a  part  in  this  case,  as  in  other  cases,  is 
possible.  One  of  the  Amazon  tribes  is  called  "  Stars."  The 
name  of  a  Dyak  chief  is  rendered — "  the  bear  of  Heaven." 
And  in  Assyrian  inscriptions,  Tiglath-pileser  is  termed  "  the 
bright  constellation,"  "  the  ruling  constellation."  Literal 
acceptance  of  legends  containing  such  names  has,  in  the 
earliest  stages,  probably  lead  to  identification. 

If  ancestors,  animal  or  human,  supposed  to  have  mi- 
grated to  the  heavens,  become  identified  with  certain  stars, 
there  result  the  fancies  of  astrology.  A  tribal  progeni- 
tor so  translated,  will  be  conceived  as  still  caring  for  his 
descendants;  while  the  progenitors  of  other  tribes  (when 
conquest  has  united  many)  will  be  conceived  as  un- 
friendly. Hence  may  result  the  alleged  good  or  ill  for- 
tune of  being  looked  down  upon  at  birth  by  this  or  that 
star. 


NATURE-WORSHIP.  3S3 

§  190.  Supposed  accessibility  of  the  heavens  makes  simi- 
larly easy  the  identification  of  the  Moon  with  a  man  or  with 
a  woman. 

Sometimes  the  traditional  person  is  believed  to  reside 
in  the  Moon;  as  by  the  Loucheux  branch  of  the  Tinneh, 
who,  while  supplicating  him  for  success  in  hunting,  say  that 
he  "  once  lived  among  them  as  a  poor  ragged  boy."  More 
frequently,  however,  there  is  an  alleged  metamorphosis. 
The  Esquimaux  think  Sun,  Moon,  and  Stars  "  are  spirits  of 
departed  Esquimaux,  or  of  some  of  the  lower  animals;  " 
and  the  South  Australians  believe  that  the  Sun,  Moon,  etc., 
are  living  beings  who  once  inhabited  the  earth.  Clearly, 
then,  certain  low  races,  who  do  not  worship  the  heavenly 
bodies,  have  nevertheless  personalized  these  by  vaguely 
identifying  them  with  ancestors  in  general.  Biographies  of 
the  Moon  do  not  here  occur ;  but  we  find  biographies  among 
races  which  are  advanced  enough  to  keep  up  traditions. 
The  Chibchas  say  that  when  on  Earth,  Chia  taught  evil,  and 
that  Bochica,  their  deified  instructor,  "  translated  her  to 
heaven,  to  become  the  wife  of  the  Sun  and  to  illuminate 
the  nights  without  appearing  at  daytime  [on  account  of  the 
bad  things  she  had  taught],  and  that  since  then  there  has 
been  a  Moon."  The  Mexican  story  was  that,  "  together 
with  the.  man  who  threw  himself  into  the  fire  and  came 
out  the  Sun,  another  went  in  a  cave  and  came  out  the 
Moon." 

Has  identification  of  the  Moon  with  persons  who  once 
lived,  been  caused  by  misinterpretation  of  names?  Indi- 
rect evidence  would  justify  us  in  suspecting  this,  even  were 
there  no  direct  evidence.  In  savage  and  semi-civilized  my- 
thologies, the  Moon  is  more  commonly  represented  as  female 
than  as  male;  and  it  needs  no  quotations  to  remind  the 
reader  how  often,  in  poetry,  a  beautiful  woman  is  either 
compared  to  the  Moon  or  metaphorically  called  the  Moon. 
And  if,  in  primitive  times,  Moon  was  used  as  a  complimen- 
tary name  for  a  woman,  erroneous  identification  of  person 


384  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

and  object,  naturally  originated  a  lunar  myth  wherever  the 
woman  so  named  survived  in  tradition. 

To  this,  which  is  a  hypothetical  argument,  is  to  be  added 
an  argument  based  on  fact.  Whether  it  supplies  compli- 
mentary names  or  not,  the  Moon  certainly  supplies  birth- 
names.  Among  those  which  Mason  enumerates  as  given 
by  the  Karens,  is  "  Full  Moon."  Obviously,  peoples  who 
distinguish  children  by  the  incidents  of  their  birth,  using, 
as  in  Africa,  days  of  the  week,  and  as  we  have  seen  in  other 
cases,  times  of  the  day,  will  also  use  phases  of  the  Moon, 
And  since  many  peoples  have  this  custom,  birth-names  de- 
rived from  phases  of  the  Moon  have  probably  been  common, 
and  subsequent  identifications  with  the  Moon  not  rare. 

And  here  a  significant  correspondence  may  be  noted. 
Birth-names  derived  from  the  Moon  will  habitually  refer  to 
it  either  as  rising  or  setting,  or  else  as  in  one  of  its  phases 
— waxing,  full,  waning:  a  state  of  the  Moon,  rather  than 
the  Moon  itself,  will  be  indicated.  Now  the  Egyptian  god- 
dess Bubastis,  appears  to  have  been  the  new  Moon  (some 
evidence  implies  the  full) — at  any  rate  a  phase.  The  sym- 
bolization  of  Artemis  expresses  a  like  limitation;  as  does 
also  that  of  Selene.  And  in  his  Mythology  of  the  Aryan 
Nations,  Sir  G.  W.  Cox  tells  us  that  16  is  "  pre-eminently 
the  horned"  or  young  Moon;  while  Pandia  is*the  full 
Moon.  How  do  these  facts  harmonize  with  the  current  in- 
terpretation? Is  the  tyranny  of  metaphor  so  great  that,  of 
itself,  it  compels  this  change  of  personality? 

§  191.  Naturally,  we  may  expect  to  find  that,  in  com- 
mon with  the  Stars  and  the  Moon,  the  Sun  has  been  person- 
alized by  identification  with  a  traditional  human  being. 

Already  implied  by  some  of  the  above-quoted  statements 
respecting  the  Moon,  this  is  implied  more  distinctly  by 
statements  now  to  be  quoted.  The  original  parent  of  the 
Comanches,  like  themselves  but  of  gigantic  stature,  lives, 
they  say,  in  the  Sun.  So,  too,  "  the  Chechemecas  called  the 


NATURE-WORSHIP.  385 

Sun  their  father."  Of  the  Olchones,  Bancroft  says — "  The 
sun  here  begins  to  be  connected,  or  identified  by  name,  with 
that  great  spirit,  or  rather,  that  Big  Man,  who  made  the 
earth  and  who  rules  in  the  sky;  "  and  he  also  says  of  the 
Tinneh  that  "  some  of  them  believe  in  a  good  spirit  called 
Tihugun, '  my  old  friend,'  supposed  to  reside  in  the  sun  and 
in  the  moon."  By  the  Salive,  one  of  the  Orinoco  tribes,  the 
Sun  is  named  "  the  man  of  the  Earth  above."  Among  the 
less  civilized  American  peoples,  then,  the  implication  of 
original  existence  on  Earth  and  subsequent  migration  to  the 
sky,  is  general  only.  Their  conception  is  on  a  level  with  that 
of  the  African  (a  Barotse),  who,  when  asked  whether  a  halo 
round  the  Sun  portended  rain,  replied — "  O  no,  it  is  the 
Barimo  (gods  or  departed  spirits)  who  have  called  a  picho; 
don't  you  see  they  have  the  Lord  (sun)  in  the  centre  ?  " :  the 
belief  doubtless  being  that  as  the  rest  of  the  celestial  assem- 
blage had  once  been  on  Earth,  so,  too,  had  their  chief.  But 
among  more  advanced  American  peoples,  the  terrestrial 
personality  of  the  Sun  is  definitely  stated : — 

"According  to  the  Indians  [of  Tlascala]  the  Sun  was  a  god  so 
leprous  and  sick  that  he  could  not  move.  The  other  gods  pitied  him, 
and  constructed  a  very  large  oven  and  lighted  an  enormous  fire  in  it, 
to  put  him  out  of  pain  by  killing  him,  or  to  purify  him." 
The  Quiche  tradition  is  that  after  "  there  had  been  no  sun 
in  existence  for  many  years," 

"the  gods  being  assembled  in  a  place  called  Teotihuacan,  six  leagues 
from  Mexico,  and  gathered  at  the  time  round  a  great  fire,  told  their 
devotees  that  he  of  them  who  should  first  cast  himself  into  that  fire, 
should  have  the  honour  of  being  transformed  into  a  sun." 
There  is  a  legend  concerning  the  ancestor  of  the  cazique  of 
Mizteca,  who, 

"shot  there  against  the  great  light  even  till  the  going  down  of  the 
same ;  then  he  took  possession  of  all  that  land,  seeing  he  had  griev- 
ously wounded  the  sun,  and  forced  him  to  hide  behind  the  moun- 
tains." 

More  specific  still  is  a  kindred  story  of  the  Mexicans,  form- 
ing the  sequel  to  one  above  cited.  When  the  god  who  be- 


386  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

came  the  Sun  by  throwing  himself  into  the  fire,  first  rose, 
he  stood  still;  and  when  the  other  gods  sent  a  messenger 
ordering  him  to  go  on, 

"the  Sun  replied  that  it  would  not  go  on  until  it  had  destroyed 
them.  Both  afraid  and  angry  at  this  answer,  one  of  them,  called 
Citli,  took  a  bow  and  three  arrows,  and  shot  at  its  fiery  head ;  but 
the  Sun  stooped,  and  thus  avoided  being  hit.  The  second  time  he 
wounded  its  body,  and  also  the  third  time.  In  rage,  the  Sun  took  one 
of  the  arrows  and  shot  at  Citli,  piercing  his  forehead,  and  thus  kill- 
ing him  on  the  spot." 

Nor  does  this  exhaust  the  cases  which  Mexican  traditions, 
furnish.  After  expounding  the  Sun-myths  in  which  he 
figures,  Waitz  concludes  that  "  Quetzalcoatl  was  originally 
a  man,  a  priest  in  Tula,  who  rose  as  a  religious  reformer 
among  the  Toltecs,  but  was  expelled  by  the  adherents  of 
Tezcatlipoca." 

By  the  znythologists  these  stories,  in  common  with  kin- 
dred stories  of  the  Aryans,  are  said  to  result  from  person- 
alizations figuratively  expressing  the  Sun's  doings;  and 
they  find  no  difficulty  in  believing  that  men  not  only  gra- 
tuitously ascribed  human  nature  to  the  Sun,  but  gratui- 
tously identified  him  with  a  known  man.  Doubtless  the 
Mexican  tradition  "  that  at  one  time  there  were  five  suns; 
and  the  fruits  of  the  earth  did  not  grow  well,  and  the  men 
died,"  will  in  some  way  be  explained  as  harmonizing  with 
their  hypothesis.  Here,  however,  the  interpretation  adopt- 
ed, like  preceding  interpretations,  does  not  imply  that  these 
legends  grew  out  of  pure  fictions;  but  that,  however  much 
transformed,  they  grew  out  of  facts.  Even  were  there  no 
direct  evidence  that  solar  myths  have  arisen  from  misappre- 
hensions of  narratives  respecting  actual  persons,  or  actual 
events  in  human  history,  the  evidence  furnished  by  analogy 
would  warrant  the  belief.  But  the  direct  evidence  is  abun- 
dant. In  some  cases  we  are  left  in  doubt  how  the  supposed 
connexion  with  the  Sun  originated,  as  in  the  case  of  the 
Damaras,  who  have  "  five  or  six  different  '  eandas '  or  de- 


NATURE-WORSHIP.  387 

scents  " — some  "  who  come  from  the  sun,"  and  some  "  who 
come  from  the  rain ;  "  but  in  other  cases  there  is  an  obvious 
clue  to  the  connexion. 

One  source  of  these  solar  myths,  is  the  literal  acceptance 
of  figurative  statements  concerning  the  quarter  whence  the 
race  came.  Already  we  have  concluded  that  emergence 
of  a  people  from  a  forest,  confounded  in  tradition  with 
emergence  from  the  trees  forming  it,  has  led  to  the  worship 
of  trees  as  ancestors;  and  that  the  story  of  migration  from 
a  distant  mountain  has  become,  through  defect  of  language, 
changed  into  the  story  of  descent  from  the  mountain  as  a 
progenitor.  The  like  has  happened  with  peoples  who  have 
migrated  from  a  locality  marked  by  the  Sun.  On  referring 
to  §  112,  where  are  given  the  ideas  of  various  peoples  re- 
specting that  other  world  whence  their  forefathers  came, 
and  to  which  they  expect  to  return  after  death,  it  will  be 
seen  that  its  supposed  direction  is  usually  either  East  or 
West:  the  obvious  cause  being  that  the  places  of  sunrise 
and  sunset,  ranging  through  considerable  angles  of  the  hori- 
zon on  either  side,  serve  as  general  positions  to  which  more 
northerly  and  southerly  ones  are  readily  approximated  by 
the  inaccurate  savage,  in  the  absence  of  definite  marks. 
"  Where  the  Sun  rises  in  heaven,"  is  said,  by  the  Central 
American,  to  be  the  dwelling-place  of  his  gods,  who  were  his 
ancestors  (§  149) ;  and  the  like  holds  in  many  cases.  Of  the 
Dinneh  (or  Tinneh),  Franklin  says  each  tribe,  or  horde,  adds 
some  distinctive  epithet  taken  from  the  name  of  the  river, 
or  lake,  on  which  they  hunt,  or  the  district  from  which  they 
last  migrated.  Those  who  come  to  Fort  Chipewyan  term 
themselves  "  Saw-eesaw-dinneh — Indians  from  the  rising 
Sun."  Xow  may  we  not  suspect  that  such  a  name  as  "  In- 
dians from  the  rising  Sun,"  will,  in  the  legends  of  people 
having  an  undeveloped  speech,  generate  a  belief  in  descent 
from  the  Sun?  We  ourselves  use  the  expression  "  children 
of  light;  "  we  have  the  descriptive  name  "  children  of  the 
mist "  for  a  clan  living  in  a  foggy  locality;  nay,  we  apply 


388  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

the  phrase  "  children  of  the  Sun  "  to  races  living  in  the 
tropics.  Much  more,  then,  will  the  primitive  man  in  his 
poverty-stricken  language,  speak  of  those  coming  from  the 
place  where  the  Sun  rises  as  "  children  of  the  Sun."  That 
peoples  even  so  advanced  as  the  Peruvians  did  so,  we  have 
proof. 

"  The  universal  tradition  pointed  to  a  place  called  Paccari-tampu, 
as  the  cradle  or  point  of  origin  of  the  Yncas.  It  was  from  Cuzco, 
the  nearest  point  to  the  sun-rising ;  and  as  the  sun  was  chosen  as  the 
pacarisca  [origin]  of  the  Yncas,  the  place  of  their  origin  was  at  first 
assigned  to  Paccari-tampu.  But  when  their  conquests  were  extended 
to  the  Collao,  they  could  approach  nearer  to  the  sun,  until  they  be- 
held it  rising  out  of  lake  Titicaca ;  and  hence  the  inland  sea  became 
a  second  traditional  place  of  royal  origin." 

When  with  this  we  join  the  facts  that  the  Yncas,  who  other- 
wise carried  ancestor-worship  to  so  great  an  extent,  were 
predominantly  worshippers  of  the  Sun  as  ancestor;  and  that 
when  the  Ynca  died  he  was  "  called  back  to  the  mansions  of 
his  father,  the  Sun;  "  we  have  warrant  for  concluding  that 
this  belief  in  descent  from  the  Sun  resulted  from  misappre- 
hension of  the  historical  fact  that  the  Ynca-race  emerged 
from  the  land  where  the  Sun  rises.  Kindred  evidence  comes 
from  certain  names  given  to  the  Spaniards.  The  Mexicans 
"  called  Cortes  the  offspring  of  the  Sun;  "  and  as  the  Span- 
iards came  from  the  region  of  the  rising  Sun,  we  have  a  like 
cause  preceding  a  like  effect.  Though  apparently  not  for 
the  same  reason,  the  Panches,  too,  made  solar  heroes  of  the 
Spaniards.  "  When  the  Spaniards  first  entered  this  king- 
dom, the  natives  were  in  a  great  consternation,  looking  upon 
them  as  the  children  of  the  Sun  and  Moon  "  says  Herrera: 
a  statement  made  in  other  words  of  the  Chibchas  by  Simon, 
and  by  Lugo,  who  tells  us  that  in  their  language,  "  SuA 
means  the  Sun,  and  Sue  the  Spaniard.  The  reason  why 
this  word  sue  is  derived  from  sud  is  that  the  ancient  In- 
dians, when  they  saw  the  first  Spaniards,  said  that  they  were 
children  of  the  Sun." 

In  this  case,  too,  as  in  preceding  cases,  misinterpretation 


NATURE-WORSHIP.  389 

of  individual  names  is  a  factor.  In  the  essay  which  con- 
tained a  rude  outline  of  the  argument  elaborated  in  the  fore- 
going chapters,  I  contended  that  by  the  savage  and  semi- 
civilized,  "  Sun  "  was  likely  to  be  given  as  a  title  of  honour 
to  a  distinguished  man.  I  referred  to  the  fact  that  such 
complimentary  metaphors  are  used  by  poets:  instancing 
from  Henry  VIII  the  expression — "  Those  suns  of  glory, 
those  two  lights  of  men;  "  to  which  I  might  have  added  the 
lines  from  Julius  Ccesar — 

"  O  setting  sun, 

As  in  thy  red  rays  thou  dost  sink  to-night, 

So  in  his  red  blood  Cassius'  day  is  set; 

The  sun  of  Rome  is  set !  " 

And  I  argued  that  among  primitive  peoples  speaking  more 
figuratively  than  we  do,  and  greatly  given  to  flattery,  "  the 
Sun  "  would  probably  be  a  frequent  name  of  laudation. 
Facts  justifying  this  inference  were  not  then  at  hand ;  but  I 
can  now  give  several.  Egyptian  records  furnish  some  of 
them;  as  instance  the  address  to  the  Egyptian  king  by  an 
envoy  from  the  Bakhten — "  Glory  to  thee,  Sun  of  the  IsTine 
bow  barbarians,  Let  us  live  before  thee ;  "  and  then  the  gods 
Amen,  Horns  and  Turn,  are  all  identified  with  the  Sun. 
Here,  again,  is  a  sentence  from  Prescott's  Mexico. 

"The  frank  and  joyous  manners  [of  Alvarado]  made  him  a  great 
favourite  with  the  Tlascalans;  and  his  bright,  open  countenance,  fair 
complexion,  and  golden  locks  gave  him  the  name  of  Tonatiuh,  the 
Sun." 

The  Peruvians  gave  a  modification  of  the  name  to  those 
who  were  mentally  superior;  as  is  shown  by  the  statement 
that  they  "  were  so  simple,  that  any  one  who  invented  a  new 
thing  was  readily  recognized  by  them  as  a  child  of  the  Sun." 
And  then  we  have  evidence  that  in  these  regions  the  title, 
sometimes  given  in  compliment,  was  sometimes  arrogantly 
assumed.  In  the  historic  legend  of  the  Central  Americans, 
the  Popol  Vuh,  is  described  the  pride  of  Vukub-Cakix,  who 
boasted  that  he  was  Sun  and  Moon. 

Once  more  we  have,  as  a  root  for  a  Sun-myth,  the  birth- 
26 


390  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY, 

name.  Among  the  Karens  occurs  the  name  "  Yellow  Rising 
Sun;  "  and  though  Mason  speaks  of  "  a  handsome  young 
person  "  as  thus  called,  so  implying  that  it  is  a  complimen- 
tary name,  yet  considering  that  these  people  use  "  Even- 
ing," "  Moon-rise,"  "  Sun-rise,"  "  Full  Moon,"  as  birth- 
names,  it  seem  probable  that  "  Rising  Sun  "  is  a  birth-name. 
Catlin's  portraits  of  Xorth  Americans  yield  some  good  evi- 
dence. There  is  among  them  an  Esquimaux  man  named 
"  the  Rising  Sun,"  which,  as  the  Esquimaux  have  no  chiefs 
or  warriors,  is  not  likely  to  have  been  a  complimentary 
name;  and  there  is  a  Minatarre'e  girl  called  "  The  Mid-day 
Sun,"  which  is  not  likely  to  have  been  a  title  of  honour  for 
a  girl.  Manifestly  it  would  be  anomalous  were  celestial 
incidents  thus  used,  with  the  exception  of  the  most  striking 
one. 

And  now  mark  a  significant  congruity  and  a  significant 
incongruity,  parallel  to  those  we  marked  in  the  case  of  the 
Moon's  phases.  Birth-names  taken  from  the  Sun  must  refer 
to  the  Sun  at  some  part  of  his  course — the  rising  Sun,  the 
soaring  Sun,  the  setting  Sun,  according  to  the  hour  of  the 
birth ;  and  complimentary  names  taken  from  the  Sun,  may 
express  various  of  his  attributes,  as  "  the  glory  of  the  Sun," 
"  the  Sun's  brightness,"  etc.  That  names  of  this  class  have 
been  used  is,  indeed,  a  known  fact.  Among  complimentary 
titles  of  Egyptian  kings  in  the  Select  Papyri,  we  find — "  the 
Sun  of  creation,"  "  the  Sun  becoming  victorious,"  "  the  Sun 
orderer  of  creation."  Hence  no  difficulty  is  presented  by 
the  fact  that  "  the  Egyptians  made  of  the  Sun  several  dis- 
tinct deities;  as  the  intellectual  Sun,  the  physical  orb,  the 
cause  of  heat,  the  author  of  light,  the  power  of  the  Sun,  the 
vivifying  cause,  the  Sun  in  the  firmament,  and  the  Sun  in  his 
resting-place."  On  the  other  hand,  how  do  the  mythologists 
reconcile  such  facts  with  their  hypothesis?  Was  the  linguis- 
tic necessity  for  personalizing  so  great  that  eight  distinct 
persons  were  required  to  embody  the  Sun's  several  attributes 
and  states?  Must  we  conclude  that  the  Aryans,  too,  were  led 


NATURE-WORSHIP.  391 

Solely  by  the  hypostasis  of  descriptions  to  suppose  Hyperion, 
"  the  high-soaring  Sun,"  to  be  one  individual,  and  En- 
dymion,  "  the  Sun  setting,"  to  be  another  individual:  both 
being  independent  of  "  the  separate  divinity  of  Phoibos 
Apollon  "  'I  Did  the  mere  need  for  concreting  abstracts, 
force  the  Greeks  to  think  that  when  the  Sun  was  thirty  de- 
grees above  the  horizon  he  was  one  person  who  had  such 
and  such  adventures,  and  that  by  the  time  he  had  got  within 
ten  degrees  of  the  horizon  he  had  changed  into  a  person 
having  a  different  biography?  That  the  mythologists  can- 
not think  this  I  will  not  say;  for  their  stores  of  faith  are 
large.  But  the  faith  of  others  will,  I  imagine,  fall  short 
here,  if  it  has  not  done  so  before. 

§  192.  When  the  genesis  of  solar  myths  after  the  man- 
ner I  have  described,  was  briefly  indicated  as  a  part  of  the 
general  doctrine  set  forth  in  the  essay  above  referred  to, 
sundry  resulting  correspondences  with  the  traits  of  such 
myths  were  pointed  out.  The  fact  that  conspicuous  celestial 
objects,  in  common  with  the  powers  of  nature  at  large,  were 
conceived  as  male  and  female,  was  shown  to  be  a  sequence. 
The  fact  that  in  mythologies  the  Sun  has  such  alternative 
names  as  "  the  Swift  One,"  "  the  Lion,"  "  the  Wolf,"  which 
are  not  suggested  by  the  Sun's  sensible  attributes,  was 
shown  to  be  explicable  on  the  hypothesis  that  these  were 
additional  complimentary  names  given  to  the  same  individ- 
ual. Further,  the  strange  jumbling  of  celestial  phenomena 
with  the  adventures  of  earth-born  persons,  was  accounted 
for  as  a  result  of  endeavours  to  reconcile  the  statements  of 
tradition  with  the  evidence  of  the  senses.  And  once  more 
it  was  suggested  that  by  aggregation  of  local  legends  con- 
cerning persons  thus  named,  into  a  mythology  co-extensive 
with  many  tribes  who  were  united  into  a  nation,  would 
necessitate  conflicting  genealogies  and  biographies  of  the 
personalized  Sun.  While  able  then  to  illustrate  but  briefly 
these  positions,  I  alluded  to  evidence  which  was  forthcom- 


392  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

ing.  Of  such  evidence  I  have  now  given  an  amount  which 
fulfils  the  tacit  promise  made;  and  goes  far  to  justify  the 
inference  drawn.  I  did  not  then,  however,  hope  to  do  more 
than  make  the  inference  highly  probable.  But  while  col- 
lecting materials  for  the  foregoing  chapters,  I  have  come 
upon  a  passage  in  the  records  of  the  ancient  Egyptians 
which,  I  think,  gives  collusiveness  to  the  argument.  It  is 
in  the  third  Sallier  Papyrus.  This  document,  recording 
the  triumphs  of  Ramses  II,  has  already  yielded  us  illustra- 
tions of  the  ancient  belief  in  the  supernatural  strength  given 
by  an  ancestral  ghost  who  has  become  a  god;  and  more  re- 
cently I  have  quoted  from  it  a  phrase  exemplifying  the  com- 
plimentary application  of  an  animal-name  to  a  conquering 
monarch.  Here,  from  an  address  of  the  subjugated  people, 
praying  for  mercy,  I  quote  in  full  the  significant  sentence : — 
"Horus,  conquering  bull,  dear  to  Ma,  Prince  guarding  thy  army, 
valiant  with  the  sword,  bulwark  of  his  troops  in  day  of  battle,  king 
mighty  of  strength,  great  Sovran,  Sun  powerful  in  truth,  approved  of 
Ra,  mighty  in  victories,  Ramses  Miamon. " 

The  whole  process  described  above  as  likely  to  occur,  is 
shown  in  this  record  as  actually  occurring.  Observe  all  the 
correspondences.  The  deity  to  whom,  as  we  saw,  Ramses 
says  he  has  sacrificed  30,000  bulls,  and  to  whom  he  prays 
for  supernatural  aid,  is  regarded  as  his  ancestor.  "  I  call  on 
thee  my  father  Ammon,"  he  says ;  and  the  defeated  say  to 
him — "  truly  thou  art  born  of  Ammon,  issue  of  his  body." 
Further,  Ramses,  described  as  performing  the  feats  of  a  god, 
is  spoken  of  as  though  a  god:  the  defeated  call  him  "  giver 
of  life  for  ever  like  his  father  Ra."  Thus  regarded  as  di- 
vine, he  receives,  as  we  find  warriors  among  the  semi-civil- 
ized and  savage  still  doing,  many  complimentary  titles  and 
metaphorical  names;  which,  being  joined  to  the  same  indi- 
vidual, become  joined  to  one  another :  Ramses  is  at  once  the 
King,  the  Bull,  the  Sun.  And  while  this  record  gives  the 
human  genealogy  of  Ramses  and  his  achievements  on  Earth, 
its  expressions  point  to  his  subsequent  apotheosis;  and  imply 


NATURE-WORSHIP.  393 

that  his  deeds  will  be  narrated  as  the  deeds  of  the  "  con- 
quering bull  "  and  of  "  the  Sun."  Remembering  that  at 
the  deaths  even  of  ordinary  Egyptians,  there  were  ceremo- 
nial eulogies  by  priests  and  others,  who  afterwards,  at  fixed 
intervals,  repeated  their  praises;  we  cannot  doubt  that  in 
laudations  of  a  king  who  became  a  god  after  death,  carried 
on  in  still  more  exaggerated  language  than  during  his  life, 
there  persisted  these  metaphorical  titles:  resulting  in  such 
hymns  as  that  addressed  to  Amen — "  The  Sun  the  true  king 
of  gods,  the  Strong  Bull,  the  mighty  lover  (of  power)." 

To  me  it  seems  obvious  that  in  this  legend  of  the  vic- 
torious Ramses,  king,  conqueror,  bull,  sun,  and  eventually 
god,  we  have  the  elements  which,  in  an  early  stage  of  civil- 
ization, generate  a  solar  myth  like  that  of  Indra ;  who  simi- 
larly united  the  characters  of  the  conquering  hero,  the  bull, 
the  sun.  To  say  that  when  orally  transmitted  for  genera- 
tions among  a  less-advanced  people,  a  story  such  as  this 
would  not  result  in  a  human  biography  of  the  Sun,  is  to  deny 
a  process  congruous  with  the  processes  we  find  going  on; 
and  is  to  assume  an  historical  accuracy  that  was  impossible 
with  a  language  which,  like  that  of  the  Egyptians  even  in 
historic  times,  could  not  distinguish  between  a  name  and  the 
act  of  naming.  While  to  allege,  instead,  that  the  Sun  may 
not  only  be  affiliated  on  human  parents,  but  may  be  credited 
with  feats  of  arms  as  a  king,  while  he  is  also  a  brute,  and 
this  solely  because  of  certain  linguistic  suggestions,  is  to 
allege  that  men  disregard  the  evidence  of  their  senses  at  the 
prompting  of  reasons  relatively  trivial. 

§  193.  Little,  then,  as  first  appearances  suggest  it,  the 
conclusion  warranted  by  the  facts,  is  that  Nature-worship, 
like  each  of  the  worships  previously  analyzed,  is  a  form  of 
ancestor-worship;  but  one  which  has  lost,  in  a  still  greater 
degree,  the  external  characters  of  its  original. 

Partly  by  confounding  the  parentage  of  the  race  with  a 
conspicuous  object  marking  the  natal  region  of  the  race, 


394  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

partly  by  literal  interpretation  of  birth-names,  and  partly  by 
literal  interpretation  of  names  given  in  eulogy,  there  have 
been  produced  beliefs  in  descents  from  Mountains,  from  the 
Sea,  from  the  Dawn,  from  animals  which  have  become  con- 
stellations, and  from  persons  once  on  Earth  who  now  appear 
as  Moon  and  Sun.  Implicitly  believing  the  statements  of 
forefathers,  the  savage  and  semi-civilized  have  been  com- 
pelled grotesquely  to  combine  natural  powers  with  human 
attributes  and  histories;  and  have  been  thus  led  into  the 
strange  customs  of  propitiating  these  great  terrestrial  and 
celestial  objects  by  such  offerings  of  food  and  blood  as  they 
habitually  made  to  other  ancestors. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

DEITIES. 

§  1 94.  IN  the  foregoing  five  chapters  the  genesis  of  dei- 
ties has  been  so  fully  set  forth  by  implication,  that  there^ 
seems  no  need  for  a  chapter  dealing  directly  with  the  sub- 
ject. But  though  we  have  dealt  with  those  classes  of  deities 
in  which  human  personalities  are  greatly  disguised,  there 
remains  to  be  dealt  with  the  class  of  those  deities  which  have 
arisen  by  simple  idealization  and  expansion  of  human  per- 
sonalities. For  while  some  men  have,  by  misinterpretation 
of  traditions,  had  their  individualities  merged  in  those  of 
natural  objects;  the  individualities  of  other  men  have  sur- 
vived with  man-like  attributes. 

This  last  class,  always  co-existing  with  the  other  classes, 
eventually  becomes  predominant:  probably,  as  before 
hinted,  through  the  agency  of  proper  names  that  are  less 
and  less  connotative  and  more  and  more  denotative.  So 
long  as  men  were  named  after  objects  around,  they  failed 
to  survive  in  tradition  under  their  human  forms;  and  the 
worship  of  them  as  ancestors  became  the  worship  of  the 
things  they  were  nominally  identified  with.  But  when  there 
arose  such  proper  names  as  were  not  also  borne  by  objects, 
men  began  to  be  preserved  in  story  as  men.  It  became  pos- 
sible for  ghosts  to  retain  their  anthropomorphic  individuali- 
ties long  after  the  deaths  of  contemporaries;  and  so  an  an- 
thropomorphic pantheon  resulted. 

Already,  in  the  chapter  on  "  Ancestor-worship  in  Gen- 

395 


396  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

eral,"  the  initiation  of  this  class  of  deities  has  been  indicated; 
and  now,  having  traced  the  evolution  of  the  other  classes, 
we  must  trace  the  evolution  of  this  most  important  class. 

§  195.  Like  an  animal, a  savage  fears  whatever  is  strange 
in  appearance  or  behaviour.  Along  with  the  unparalleled 
quality  he  sees,  there  is  no  knowing  what  other  unparalleled 
qualities  may  go.  He  feels  endangered  by  these  capacities 
which  transcend  those  he  is  familiar  with;  and  behaves  to 
the  possessor  of  them  in  a  way  betraying  his  consciousness 
of  danger.  As  we  saw,  he  regards  as  supernatural  whatever 
he  cannot  comprehend.  His  mental  attitude  is  well  illus- 
trated by  the  two  Bechuanas,  who,  when  taken  over  a  ship, 
said  it  "  was  for  certain  an  uncreated  thing — a  thing  come 
of  itself,  and  never  made  by  human  hands."  This  supposed 
supernaturalness  of  the  unaccountable,  holds  alike  of  a  re- 
markable object  and  of  a  remarkable  man.  If  the  North 
American  Indians  "  do  not  understand  anything,  they  im- 
mediately say  it  is  a  spirit;  "  and  a  man  of  special  talent  "  is 
said  to  be  a  spirit." 

In  various  cases  we  find  the  native  equivalent  for  god  is 
thus  indiscriminately  applied  to  an  incomprehensible  object 
and  to  a  person  whose  powers  are  incomprehensible.  The 
Fijian  name  for  a  divine  being,  Tealou,  means  also  "  anything 
great  or  marvellous."  And  while,  in  pursuance  of  this  con- 
ception, the  Fijians  declared  a  printing-press  to  be  a  god, 
they  also  applied  the  word  to  their  European  visitors:  "  You 
are  a  kalou,"  "  Your  countrymen  are  gods."  So,  too,  it  is 
with  the  Malagasy,  who  speak  of  their  king  as  a  god,  and  by 
whom  whatever  is  new  or  useful  or  extraordinary  is  called  a 
god.  Silk,  "  rice,  money,  thunder  and  lightning,  and  earth- 
quakes, are  all  called  gods.  Their  ancestors  and  a  deceased 
sovereign  they  designate  in  the  same  manner."  A  book, 
too,  is  a  god ;  and  "  velvet  is  called  by  the  singular  epithet 
— Son  of  God."  It  is  the  same  with  the  man-worshipping 
Todas.  Respecting  the  meanings  of  Der,  Swdmi  (gods, 


DEITIES.  397 

lords),  as  used  by  them,  Marshall  says  "  there  is  a  tendency 
for  everything  mysterious  or  unseen  to  ripen  into  Der  /  calx 
tie,  relics,  priests,  are  .  .  .  confused  in  the  same  category, 
until  it  would  seem  that  Der,  like  Swdmi,  is  truly  an  adjec- 
tive-noun of  eminence." 

And  now  we  shall  no  longer  find  it  difficult  to  under- 
stand how  the  title  god,  is,  in  early  stages  of  progress,  given 
to  men  in  ways  which  seem  so  monstrous.  J^ot  meaning 
by  the  title  anything  like  what  we  mean,  savages  naturally 
use  it  for  powerful  persons,  living  and  dead,  of  various  kinds. 
Let  us  glance  at  the  several  classes  of  them. 

§  196.  We  may  fitly  begin  with  individuals  whose  supe- 
riorities are  the  least  definite — individuals  who  are  regarded 
by  others,  or  by  themselves,  as  better  than  the  rest. 

A  typical  case  is  furnished  by  the  Todas  above  named. 
Col.  Marshall,  describing  the  palal,  a  holy  milkman  or  priest 
among  them,  thus  gives  part  of  a  conversation  with  one: — 
"  'Is  it  true  that  Todas  salute  the  sun  ? '  I  asked.  'Tschakh ! ' 
he  replied,  'those  poor  fellows  do  so;  but  me, 'tapping  his  chest,  'I, 
a  god !  why  should  I  salute  the  Sun  ? '  At  the  time,  I  thought  this  a 
mere  ebullition  of  vanity  and  pride,  but  I  have  since  had  opportunity 
of  testing  the  truth  of  his  speech.  The  palal  for  the  time  being  is 
not  merely  the  casket  containing  divine  attributes,  but  is  himself  a 
God." 

And  "  the  palal,  being  himself  a  God,  may  with  propriety 
mention  the  names  of  his  fellow- Gods,  a  licence  which  is 
permitted  to  no  one  else  to  do."  This  elevation  to  godhood 
of  a  living  member  of  the  tribe,  who  has  some  undefined  su- 
periority, is  again  exemplified  in  Central  America.  Mont- 
gomery describes  the  Indians  of  Taltique  as  adoring  such 
a  god. 

"This  was  no  other  than  an  old  Indian,  whom  they  had  dressed 
up  in  a  peculiar  way,  and  installed  in  a  hut,  where  they  went  to  wor- 
ship him,  offering  him  the  fruits  of  their  industry  as  a  tribute,  and 
performing  in  his  presence  certain  religious  rites,  according  to  their 
ancient  practice." 


398  i  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Clearly  people  who  are  so  awe-struck  by  one  of  their  num- 
ber as  to  propitiate  him  in  this  way,  probably  under  the 
belief  that  he  can  bring  good  or  evil  on  them,  may  thus 
originate  a  deity.  For  if  the  ghost  in  general  is  feared,  still 
more  feared  will  be  the  ghost  of  a  man  distinguished  during 
life.  Probably  there  is  no  ancestor-worship  but  what  shows 
this  tendency  to  the  evolution  of  a  predominant  ghost  from 
a  predominant  human  being.  We  have  seen  how,  by  the 
Amazulu,  the  remembered  founder  of  the  family  is  the  one 
chiefly  propitiated ;  and  the  implication  is  that  this  founder 
was  in  some  way  superior.  We  have  seen,  too,  how  among 
the  Central  Americans,  Tamagastad  and  Cipattonal  were 
the  remotest  ancestors  known;  and  their  doings  were  prob- 
ably unusual  enough  to  cause  recollection  of  them.  Here 
I  may  add,  as  obviously  of  kindred  origin,  the  god  of  the 
Kamschadales.  They  "  say  that  Kut,  whom  they  sometimes 
call  god  and  sometimes  their  first  father,  lived  two  years 
upon  each  river,  and  left  the  children  that  river  on  which 
they  were  born,  for  their  proper  inheritance." 

Such  facts  show  us  in  the  most  general  way,  how  the 
conception  of  a  deity  begins  to  diverge  from  the  conception 
of  a  remarkable  person;  feared  during  his  life  and  still 
more  feared  after  his  death.  We  will  now  pass  to  the  special 
ways  in  which  genesis  of  this  conception  is  shown. 

§  107.  If,  at  first,  the  superior  and  the  divine  are  equiva- 
lent ideas,  the  chief  or  ruler  will  tend  to  become  a  deity  dur- 
ing his  life  and  a  greater  deity  after  his  death.  This  infer- 
ence is  justified  by  facts. 

Already  I  have  referred  (§  112)  to  the  Maori  chief  who 
scornfully  repudiated  an  earthly  origin,  and  looked  forward 
to  re-joining  his  ancestors,  the  gods.  It  is  thus  elsewhere 
in  Polynesia.'  "  I  am  a  god,"  said  Tuikilakila,  the  chief  of 
Somosomo.  And  of  these  Fijians,  Williams  says: — 

"Indeed,  there  is  very  little  difference  between  a  chief  of  high 
rank  and  one  of  the  second  order  of  deities.     The  former  regards 


DEITIES.  399 

himself  very  much  as  a  god,  and  is  often  spoke  of  as  such  by  his  peo- 
ple, and,  on  some  occasions,  claims  for  himself  publicly  the  right  of 
divinity." 

So,  too,  the  Tahitians  give  indirect  praises  to  the  king  quite 
as  exalted  as  any  used  in  worship  of  deities.  The  king's — 
' '  houses  were  called  the  aorai,  the  clouds  of  heaven ;  anuanua,  the 
rainbow,  was  the  name  of  the  canoe  in  which  he  voyaged ;  his  voice 
was  called  thunder;  the  glare  of  the  torches  in  his  dwelling  was  de- 
nominated lightning;  and  when  the  people  saw  them  in  the  evening, 
as  they  passed  near  his  abode,  instead  of  saying  the  torches  were 
burning  in  the  palace,  they  would  observe  that  the  lightning  was 
flashing  in  the  clouds  of  heaven."* 

The  like  holds  in  Africa.  In  Benin  the  king  is  not  only  the 
representative  of  god  upon  earth,  but  god  himself;  and  is 
worshipped  by  his  subjects  in  both  natures.  "  The  king  of 
Loango  is  respected  like  a  deity,  being  called  Samba  and 
Pongo,  that  is,  God."  The  people  of  Msambara  say — "  We 
are  all  slaves  of  the  Zumbe  [king]  who  is  our  Mulungu 
[god]."  So  was  it  with  the  ancient  American  races.  In 
Peru  Iluayna  Ccapac  "  was  so  feared  and  obeyed,  that  they 
almost  looked  upon  him  as  their  god,  and  his  image  was  set 
up  in  many  towns:  "  he  "  was  worshipped  of  his  subjects 
for  a  god,  being  yet  alive."  And  the  statement  of  Gar- 
cilasso  that  out  of  various  chiefs  and  petty  kings,  the  good 
were  worshipped,  is  confirmed  by  Balboa.  Nor  do  only 
races  of  inferior  types  deify  living  men.  Palgrave  exempli- 
fies deification  of  them  among  the  Semites  as  follows: — 

"  'Who  is  your  God  ?'  said  an  Arab  traveller  of  my  acquaintance 
to  a  Mesaleekh  nomade,  not  far  from  Basra.  'It  was  Fadee,'  an- 

*  This  passage  from  Ellis's  Polynesian  Researches,  vol.  iii,  pp.  113,  114 
(new  edition),  I  commend  to  the  attention  of  the  mythologists.  We  are 
shown  by  it  another  way  in  which  nature-worship  may  readily  arise  from 
ancestor-worship.  As  eulogies  of  a  man  after  his  death  are  apt  to  wax 
rather  than  wane,  it  is  clear  that  this  indirect  glorification  of  a  Tahitian  king, 
surviving  in  legend,  will  yield  evidence  of  his  celestial  nature ;  and  when  a 
king  so  lauded  already  has  a  complimentary  name  derived  from  anything  in 
the  heavens,  these  descriptions  of  his  surroundings  will  join  it  in  producing  a 
nature-myth. 


400  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

swered  the  man,  naming  a  powerful  provincial  governor  of  those 
lands,  lately  deceased;  'but  since  his  death  I  really  do  not  know 
who  is  God  at  the  present  moment.'  " 

That  Aryans  have  had  like  conceptions,  we  are  reminded 
by  such  facts  as  that  Greek  kings  of  the  East,  besides  altars 
erected  to  them,  had  0eo<?  stamped  on  their  coins,  and  that 
Roman  emperors  were  worshipped  when  alive.  Nay,  cases 
occur  even  now.  When  the  Prince  of  Wales  was  in  India, 
Hindu  poets  "  were  apostrophizing  him  as  an  Avatar,  or 
Incarnation  of  the  Deity." 

Of  course,  as  above  said,  identification  of  the  superior 
with  the  divine,  which  leads  to  propitiation  of  living  chiefs 
and  kings  as  gods,  leads  to  more  marked  propitiation  of 
them  after  death.  In  Peru  a  dead  king  was  immediately 
regarded  as  a  god,  and  had  his  sacrifices,  statues,  etc.  Of 
the  Yucatanese,  Cogolludo,  saying  that  Ytzamat  was  a  great 
king,  adds : — "  This  king  died,  and  they  raised  altars  to  him, 
and  it  was  an  oracle  which  gave  them  answers."  In  Mexico 
the  people  of  Cholula  considered  Quetzalcoatl  [feathered 
serpent]  "  to  be  the  principal  god,"  and  they  "  said  that 
Quetzalcoatl,  though  he  was  a  native  of  Tula,  came  from  that 
place  to  people  the  provinces  of  Tlaxcala,  Huexotzingo  and 
Cholula."  Again,  "  Huitzilopochtli,  [_'  humming-bird, 
left ']  afterwards  a  supreme  deity  of  the  Aztecs  .  .  . 
was  originally  a  man,  whose  apotheosis  may  be  clearly 
traced."  Polynesia  supplies  kindred  illustrations. 

The  Sandwich  Islanders  regarded  the  spirit  of  one  of  their 
ancient  kings  as  a  tutelar  deity.  In  Tonga  they  hold  "  that 
there  are  other  Hotooas,  or  gods,  viz.,  the  souls  of  all  de- 
ceased nobles  and  matabooles,  who  have  a  like  power  of  dis- 
pensing good  and  evil,  but  in  an  inferior  degree."  And  "  the 
New  Zealanders  believed  that  several  high  chiefs  after  death 
became  deified,  and  that  from  them  all  punishments  in  this 
world  for  evil  doings  were  sent."  In  Africa  it  is 

the  same.  We  have  seen  that  among  the  Coast  Negroes, 
king  Ad61ee  looks  for  aid  to  the  ghost  of  his  father,  and 


DEITIES.  401 

tliat  in  Dahomey  the  living  king  sacrifices  victims  that  they 
may  carry  to  the  late  king  in  the  other  world,  reports  of 
what  has  been  done.  That  is,  these  dead  kings  have  become 
gods.  In  like  manner  the  king  of  Shoa  prays  at  his  father's 
shrine ;  and  "  in  Yoruba,  Shango,  the  god  of  thunder,  is 
regarded  as  a  cruel  and  mighty  king  who  was  raised  to 
heaven."  Asia,  too,  furnishes  examples.  Drew  names  a 
temple  erected  to  Golab  Singh  the  conqueror. 

Evidently,  then,  the  apotheosis  of  deceased  rulers  among 
ancient  historic  races,  was  but  the  continuation  of  a  primi- 
tive practice.  When  we  learn  that  "  Ramses  Hek  An  (a 
name  of  Ramses  III)  means  '  engendered  by  Ra  [Sun] , 
prince  of  An  (Heliopolis)/  "  and  when,  in  the  Harris  papy- 
rus, we  find  this  Ramses  III  saying  of  his  father,  "  the  gods 
appointed  their  son  arising  from  their  limbs  to  (be)  prince 
of  the  whole  land  in  their  seat;  "  we  cannot  but  recognize 
a  more  developed  form  of  those  conceptions  which  savage 
and  semi-civilized  exhibit  all  over  the  world.  When  in  the 
Babylonian  legend  of  the  flood,  we,  on  the  one  hand,  meet 
with  the  statements — "  the  gods  feared  the  tempest  and 
sought  refuge,"  "  the  gods  like  dogs  fixed  in  droves  pros- 
trate "  (implying  that  the  gods  differed  little  from  men  in 
their  powers  and  feelings) ;  and  when,  on  the  other  hand, 
we  find  that  the  conquering  Izdubar,  the  hero  of  the  legend, 
afterwards  becomes  a  god,  and  that  Bel,  who  made  the 
deluge,  was  "  the  warrior  Bel ;  "  we  cannot  doubt  that  the 
early  Babylonians,  too,  worshipped  chiefs  who,  gods  while 
alive,  became  greater  gods  after  death.* 

§  198.  Power  displayed  by  the  political  head  of  a  tribe, 
and  in  higher  stages  of  progress  by  a  king,  is  not  the  only 

*  The  later  Babylonian  beliefs  of  this  class  are  implied  by  the  following 
passage  from  Mcnant's  translation  of  the  preat  inscription  of  Nabuchad- 
nezzar: — "Je  suis  Nabu-kudur-nsur  .  .  .  le  fils  ain6  dc  Nabu-pal-usur  roi 
de  Bab  Ilu,  Moi ! "  "  Le  dieu  Bel,  Iui-m6me,  m'a  cre6,  le  dieu  Marduk  qui 
m'a  engendre",  a  de'pose'  lui  mfime  le  germe  de  ma  vie  dans  le  sein  de  tna 
mere." 


402  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

kind  of  power.  Hence,  if  at  first  the  divine  means  simply 
the  superior,  men  otherwise  distinguished  than  by  chieftain- 
ship, will  be  regarded  as  gods.  .Evidence  justifies  this  con- 
clusion. Sorcerers,  and  also  persons  who  show  unparalleled 
skill,  are  deified. 

That  medicine-men,  whose  predominance  has  no  other 
origin  than  their  craft,  are  treated  as  gods  during  their  lives, 
we  have  but  little  direct  evidence.  Sometimes,  where  the 
medicine-man  is  also  political  head,  he  appears  to  be  pro- 
pitiated in  both  capacities;  as  in  Loango,  where  the  king 
is  god,  and  where  u  they  believe  he  can  give  rain  when  he 
has  a  mind.  In  December  the  people  gather  to  beg  it  of 
him,  every  one  bringing  his  present."  But  we  have  proof 
that  the  medicine-man  becomes  a  deity  after  death.  Indeed, 
some  facts  raise  the  suspicion  that  his  ghost  is  the  one  which 
first  grows  into  predominance  as  a  being  to  be  feared.  The 
Fuegians,  to  whom  otherwise  no  definite  religious  ideas  are 
ascribed,  believe  in  "  a  great  black  man  .  .  .  wandering 
about  the  woods  and  mountains,  .  .  .  who  influences  the 
weather  according  to  men's  conduct :  "  evidently  a  deceased 
weather-doctor.  So,  too,  by  the  neighbouring  Patagonians, 
wandering  demons  are  believed  to  be  "  the  souls  of  their 
wizards."  A  god  of  the  Chippewas,  Manabosho,  is  repre- 
sented a?  sounding  his  magic  drum  and  rattles  "  to  raise  up 
supernatural  powers  to  help  him:  "  he  uses  in  the  other 
world  those  appliances  which,  as  a  sorcerer,  he  used  in  this. 
Again,  the  Cahrocs  have  "  some  conception  of  a  great  deity 
called  Chareya,  the  Old  Man  Above:  ...  he  is  described 
as  wearing  a  close  tunic,  with  a  medicine-bag."  In  Africa 
the  Damaras  furnish  a  definite  instance.  Galton  says — 
"  We  passed  the  grave  of  the  god  Omakuru ;  the  Damaras 
all  threw  stones  on  the  cairn,  ...  singing  out,  '  Father 
Omakuru.' '  "  He  gives  and  withholds  rain."  The  apothe- 
osis of  the  medicine-man  in  Polynesia,  is  shown  by  the  Sand- 
wich Islanders,  who  have  a  tradition  that  a  certain  man, 
whom  they  deified  after  his  death,  obtained  all  their  medi- 


DEITIES.  403 

cinal  herbs  from  the  gods.  To  this  man  the  doctors  address 
their  prayers.  So  of  the  ancient  Mexicans  Hendieta  writes 
— "  Others  said  that  only  such  men  had  been  taken  for  gods 
who  transformed  themselves  or  ...  appeared  in  some 
other  shape,  and  in  it  spoke  or  did  something  beyond  human 
power."  And  similarly  in  China,  Taouism  "  deifies  hermits 
and  physicians,  magicians,  and  seekers  after  the  philoso- 
pher's stone,"  etc.  But  the  best  examples  are  furnished  by 
our  own  Scandinavian  kinsmen.  As  described  in  the  Helms- 
kringla,*  Odin  was  manifestly  a  medicine-man.  We  read 
that  "  when  Odin  of  Asaland  came  to  the  north,  and  the 
gods  with  him,"  he  "  was  the  cleverest  of  all,  and  from  him 
all  the  others  learned  their  magic  arts."  We  read  further 
that  when  the  Vanaland  people  beheaded  Memir,  a  man 
of  great  understanding,  "  Odin  took  the  head,  smeared  it 
with  herbs  so  that  .it  should  not  rot,  and  sang  incantations 
over  it.  Thereby  he  gave  it  the  power  that  it  spoke  to  him, 
and  discovered  to  him  many  secrets." 

"Odin  died  in  his  bed  in  Sweden;  and  when  he  was  near  his 
death  he  made  himself  be  marked  with  the  point  of  a  spear,  and  said 
he  was  going  to  Godheim,  and  would  give  a  welcome  there  to  all  his 

*  Dr.  Tylor  on  two  occasions  (Mind,  April,  1877,  and  Academy,  Jan.  27, 
1883)  has  blamed  me  for  quoting  from  the  Heimskringla :  giving  the  reason 
that  it  is  a  work  of  the  13th  century.  Sir  G.  Dasent  who,  among  English- 
men, is,  I  believe,  second  to  none  in  knowledge  of  Norse  literature,  tells  me 
that  the  Heimskringla  is  a  good  authority,  and  allows  me  to  repeat  his 
opinion.  If  folklore  is  to  be  disregarded  because  it  is  not  quite  700  years 
since  it  was  written  down,  and  if  versions  of  pagan  legends  narrated  by 
Christians  are  not  to  be  trusted  as  evidence  (see  Academy,  as  above),  it 
strikes  me  that  an  antagonist  might  make  light  of  a  large  proportion  of  Dr. 
Tylor's  own  conclusions.  I  may  add  that  the  inference  drawn  above  is  not 
unsupported  by  other  evidence.  In  the  Volsung  Tale,  as  given  in  the  intro- 
duction to  Sir  G.  Dasent's  Popular  Tale*  from  the  Norse,  Odin  makes  his 
appearance  as  an  ill- clad  wanderer,  and  performs  feats  of  magic.  Dr.  Tylor 
apparently  sees  no  meaning  in  correspondences  which  could  not  have  been 
foreseen.  Snorro  Sturlaston  knew  nothing  about  the  deification  of  medicine 
men  and  rulers  in  America  and  in  Africa.  Yet  the  traditions  he  records  are 
paralleled  in  various  respects  by  facts  now  found  in  these  remote  regions.  Is 
this  mere  accident  ? 


404  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

friends,  and  all  brave  warriors  should  be  dedicated  to  him,  and  the 
Swedes  believed  that  he  was  gone  to  the  ancient  Asgaard,  and  would 
live  there  eternally.  Then  began  the  belief  in  Odin  and  the  calling 
upon  him  .  .  .  Odin  was  burnt,  and  at  his  pile  there  was  great 
splendour." 

Niord  of  Noatun  is  also  described  as  continuing  the  sacri- 
fices after  Odin;  and  the  Swedes  believed  he  "  ruled  over 
the  growth  of  seasons." 

"In  his  time  all  the  diars  or  gods  died,  and  blood-sacrifices  were 
made  for  them.  Niord  died  on  the  bed  of  sickness,  and  before  he 
died  made  himself  be  marked  for  Odin  with  the  spear-point. 

"  Freyr  took  the  kingdom  after  Niord ;  .  .  .  there  were  good  sea- 
sons in  all  the  land,  which  the  Swedes  ascribed  to  Freyr,  so  that  he 
was  much  more  worshipped  than  the  other  gods.  .  .  .  Now  when 
Freyr  died  they  bore  him  secretly  into  the  mound,  but  told  the 
Swedes  he  was  alive ;  and  they  kept  watch  over  him  for  three  years. 
They  brought  all  the  taxes  into  the  mound.  .  .  .  Peace  and  good 
seasons  continued." 

In  these  extracts  there  are  various  instructive  implica- 
tions. The  dominant  race,  coming  from  the  East,  returned 
there  at  death.  While  living  they  were  worshipped;  as 
we  see  superior  men  are,  and  have  been,  elsewhere.  Such 
among  them  as  were  accounted  powerful  magicians,  were 
more  especially  worshipped.  After  death  these  gained  the 
character  of  great  gods  in  virtue  of  their  repute  as  great 
medicine-men;  and  were  propitiated  for  a  continuance  of 
their  supernatural  aid.  Of  course,  with  the  mythologists 
these  stories  of  the  lives,  deaths,  and  funeral  rites,  of  reputed 
magicians,  go  for  nothing.  They  think  them  products  of 
the  mythopceic  tendency;  and  are  not  astonished  at  the  cor- 
respondence between  alleged  fictions  and  the  facts  which 
existing  savages  show  us.  I  suppose  they  are  prepared  simi- 
larly to  dispose  of  the  case  of  JEsculapius,  which  shows  us  so 
clearly  an  apotheosis  of  this  kind.  Referred  to  by  Homer 
as  a  doctor  (in  early  stages  synonymous  with  medicine-man) 
and  known  at  a  later  time  as  locally  propitiated  by  a  tribe 
the  members  of  which  counted  their  links  of  descent  from 
him,  he  presently  came  to  have  songs  and  temples  in  his 


DEITIES.  405 

honour,  and  eventually  developed  into  a  great  god  wor- 
shipped throughout  a  wide  region. 

"As  we  advance  into  the  Hellenistic  and  Roman  periods,  it  is 
easy  to  perceive  that  a  vast  chauge  has  come  over  the  spirit  of  his  di- 
vinity. Everywhere  in  Asia  his  effigy  begins  to  appear  upon  the 
currency,  and  men  have  begun  to  invoke  him,  not  only  as  a  healer  of 
bodily  disease  and  pain,  but  as  a  present  help  in  every  trouble,  a  res- 
cuer from  every  kind  of  ill.  The  slave  is  emancipated  in  his  temples ; 
the  sailor  in  peril  implores  his  aid,  and  to  him  the  soldier  ransomed 
from  the  foe  dedicates  a  thank-offering;  men  hail  him  Saviour  and 
King;  and  at  last  the  devotee,  exalting  him  high  above  all  gods,  ex- 
claims, 'Asklepios,  thou  my  master,  whom  I  so  often  have  invoked 
in  prayer  by  night  and  day,'  'great  is  thy  power  and  manifold,  for 
thou  art  He '  who  dost  guide  and  govern  the  Universe,  Preserver  of 
the  world  and  Bulwark  of  the  immortal  Gods  1 " 

In  presence  of  such  evidence  of  the  development  of  a 
doctor  into  a  deity,  harmonizing  with  that  which  existing 
savage  races  furnish  of  the  derivation  of  deities  from  medi- 
cine-men, we  may  reasonably  conclude  that  the  stories  con- 
cerning the  early  doings  of  the  Scandinavian  gods  originated 
in  distorted  accounts  of  actual  events — are  not  fictions  due 
to  the  need  for  personalizing  the  powers  of  nature. 

Between  the  medicine-man  and  the  teacher  of  new  arts, 
there  is  but  a  nominal  distinction ;  for,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
primitive  man  thinks  that  any  ability  beyond  the  ordinary 
is  supernatural:  even  the  blacksmith  is  a  kind  of  magician 
to  the  African.  Hence  we  may  expect  to  find  deifications  of 
those  whose  superiority  was  shown  by  their  greater  knowl- 
edge or  skill ;  and  we  find  them  in  many  places.  The  Bra- 
zilians "  ascribe  the  origin  of  agriculture  to  their  teacher 
Tupan,  who  seems  to  be  identical  with  the  founder  ...  of 
the  race,  and  with  the  Supreme  Being,  so  far  as  they  have 
any  idea  of  such."  A  Chinook  tradition  is  that  "  a  kind  and 
powerful  spirit  called  Ikdnam,  .  .  .  taught  them  how  to 
make  canoes  as  well  as  all  other  implements  and  utensils; 
and  he  threw  great  rocks  into  tire  rivers  and  made  falls,  to 
obstruct  the  salmon  in  their  ascent,  so  that  they  might  be 
27 


406  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

easily  caught."  The  Mexican  god  Quetzalcoatl  was  "  a  di- 
vinity who,  during  his  residence  on  earth,  instructed  the 
natives  in  the  use  of  naetals,  in  agriculture,  and  in  the  arts 
of  government."  Further,  the  Mexicans  apotheosized  Chi- 
comecoatl  as  the  first  woman  who  made  bread ;  Tzaputlatena 
as  the  inventress  of  the  vxitl-resin;  Opuchtli  as  the  inventor 
of  some  fishing  implements;  Yiacatecutli  as  the  originator 
of  trade;  and  Xapatecutli  as  the  inventor  of  rush  mats. 
The  Central  Americans,  too,  had  their  gods  and  goddesses 
Chac,  Ixazalvoh,  Itzamna,  Ixchebelyax,  who  were  the  in- 
ventors of  agriculture,  of  cotton-weaving,  of  letters,  of  paint- 
ing. In  the  earliest  records  of  historic  peoples  we  meet  with 
like  facts.  The  Egyptian  gods,  Osiris,  Ombte,  o^eph,  and 
Thoth  are  said  to  have  taught  arts.  The  Babylonian  god 
Cannes  is  similarly  represented  as  having  been  an  instructor. 
And  it  is  needless  to  enumerate  the  Greek  and  Roman  dei- 
ties described  as  teachers  of  one  or  other  new  process,  or  in- 
ventors of  this  or  that  new  appliance. 

Still,  then,  we  have' the  same  truth  under  another  aspect. 
Power  exceeding  previously-known  powers,  excites  awe; 
and  the  possessor  of  it,  feared  during  his  life,  is  still  more 
feared  after  his  death. 

§  199.  In  treating  of  those  who,  within  the  tribe,  as 
medicine-men,  or  men  of  unusual  ability,  have  acquired 
repute  leading  to  deification,  I  have  unawares  entered  on  the 
next  class  of  facts — facts  showing  us  that  the  immigrant 
member  of  a  superior  race  becomes  a  god  among  an  inferior 
race. 

At  the  present  time  it  occasionally  happens  that  Euro- 
peans, such  as  shipwrecked  sailors  or  escaped  convicts, 
thrown  among  savage  peoples,  gain  ascendency  over  them  by 
the  knowledge  and  skill  they  display;  and  when  we  remem- 
ber that  after  the  deaths  of  such  men,  their  powers,  exalted 
in  legend,  are  sure  to  make  their  ghosts  feared  more  than 
ordinary  ghosts,  we  shall  recognize  another  source  from 


DEITIES.  407 

which  deities  arise.  That  men  of  low  type  even  now  class 
strangers  of  high  type  as  gods,  we  have  abundant  proofs. 
It  is  said  by  the  Bushmen — "  Those  white  men  are  children 
of  God;  they  know  everything."  The  East  Africans  ex- 
claim to  Europeans — "  Truly  ye  are  gods;  "  and  Europeans 
are  thus  spoken  of  in  Congo.  A  chief  on  the  Niger,  seeing 
whites  for  the  first  time,  thought  them  "  children  of  heav- 
en." When  Thompson  and  Motfat  wished  to  see  a  religious 
ceremony  peculiar  to  the  Bechuana  women,  the  women  said 
— "  These  are  gods,  let  them  walk  in."  Even  among  so 
superior  an  African  race  as  the  Fulahs,  some  villages,  says 
Earth,  "  went  so  far  as  to  do  me  the  honour  ...  of  identi- 
fying me  with  their  god  '  F6te,'  who,  they  thought,  might 
have  come  to  spend  a  day  with  them  "  (staying  to  dinner, 
like  Zeus  with  the  Ethiopians).  Other  races  furnish  kin- 
dred instances.  Some  Khond  women  said  of  Campbell's 
tent — "  It  is  the  house  of  a  god."  The  "  Mcobarians  have 
such  a  high  idea  of  the  power  of  Europeans,  that  to  them 
they  attribute  the  creation  of  their  islands,  and  they  think 
it  depends  on  them  to  give  fine  weather."  *  Remarking  of 
the  Fijians  that  "  there  appears  to  be  no  certain  line  of  de- 
marcation between  gods  and  living  men,"  Erskine  tells  us 
that  one  of  the  chiefs  said  to  Mr.  Hunt — "  If  you  die  first, 
I  shall  make  you  my  god."  Mr.  Alfred  Wallace,  who  has 
had  extensive  opportunities  of  studying  primitive  men,  saya 
of  the  Arm  Islanders — 

"I  have  no  doubt  that  to  the  next  generation,  or  even  before,  I 
myself  shall  be  transformed  into  a  magician  or  a  demi-god,  a  worker 
of  miracles,  and  a  being  of  supernatural  knowledge.  They  already 
believe  that  all  the  animals  I  preserve  will  come  to  life  again ;  and  to 
their  children  it  will  be  related  that  they  actually  did  so.  An  un- 
usual spell  of  fine  weather  setting  in  just  at  my  arrival,  has  made  them 
believe  I  can  control  the  seasons." 

*  I  have  had  brought  to  me  from  the  locality,  a  photograph  of  Nieobar- 
idols,  among  which  there  are  grotesque,  and  yet  characteristic,  figures  of 
Englishmen. 


408  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

And  then,  lastly,  we  have  the  fact  that  an  apotheosis  like 
that  which  Mr.  Wallace  anticipates,  has  already  occurred 
in  a  neighbouring  island.  The  Dyaks  attribute  supernat- 
ural power  to  Kajah  Brooke:  he  is  invoked  along  with  the 
other  gods. 

With  such  abundant  proofs  that  the  genesis  of  gods  out 
of  superior  strangers  is  now  going  on,  we  cannot,  without 
perversity,  regard  as  fictions  those  stories  found  in  many 
countries,  which  represent  certain  gods  as  having  brought 
knowledge  and  arts  from  elsewhere.  The  Mexican  god, 
Quetzalcoatl,  who  came  from  the  west,  was  "  a  tall  white 
man,  with  broad  forehead,  large  eyes,  long  black  hair,  and 
great  round  beard,"  who,  having  instructed  them  and  re- 
formed their  manners,  departed  by  the  way  he  came.  So, 
too,  the  great  god  of  the  Chibchas,  Bochica,  was  a  white  man 
with  a  beard,  who  gave  them  laws  and  institutions,  and  who 
disappeared  after  having  long  lived  at  Sogamoso.  In  South 
America  it  is  the  same.  Humboldt  tells  us  that  "  Amali- 
vaca,  the  father  of  the  Tamanacs,  that  is,  the  creator  of  the 
human  race  (for  every  nation  regards  itself  as  the  root  of  all 
other  nations)  arrived  in  a  bark."  He  afterwards  re-em- 
barked. 

•  In  some  cases  the  remarkable  strangers  who  thus  become 
a  people's  gods,  are  regarded  as  the  returned  ghosts  of  their 
own  remarkable  men.  Ghosts  and  gods  being  originally 
undift'erentiated  in  thought;  and  neither  of  them  being  al- 
ways distinguishable  from  living  persons;  it  happens,  as 
was  shown  in  §  92,  that  the  whites  are,  by  Australians,  Poly- 
nesians, and  Africans,  held  to  be  the  doubles  of  their  own 
dead.  WTien  we  read  that  among  the  Wanikas,  "  Mulun- 
gu,"  the  word  applied  like  the  Kaffir  "  Uhlunga  "  to  the 
Supreme  God,  also  denotes  any  good  or  evil  revenant ;  we 
see  how  it  happens  that  Europeans  are  called  indiscrimi- 
nately ghosts  and  gods.  Hence  the  naturalness  of  the  fact 
that  in  the  Sandwich  Islands,  when  "  Captain  Cook  arrived, 
it  was  supposed,  and  reported,  that  the  good  Rono  was  re- 


DEITIES.  409 

turned,  hence  the  people  prostrated  themselves  before  him.'' 
Hence,  too,  the  idea  implied  by  Camargo's  account  of  the 
Mexicans,  that,  "  as  soon  as  the  Spaniards  had  disembarked, 
news  came  to  the  very  smallest  villages  that  the  gods  had 
arrived:"  the  belief  being  "  that  their  god  Quetzalcoatl 
had  come  "  back  with  his  companions.  And  hence,  again, 
the  reason  that  the  Chibchas  at  Turmeque"  "  showed  to  the 
Spaniards  the  veneration  and  worship  they  showed  to  the 
gods,  making  incense  to  them." 

Thus  we  find  re-illustrated  under  other  conditions,  the 
same  general  truth  that  the  primitive  god  is  the  superior 
man,  either  indigenous  or  foreign;  propitiated  during  his 
life  and  still  more  after  his  death. 

§  200.  From  this  deification  of  single  men  of  higer  races, 
there  is  a  natural  transition  to  the  deification  of  conquering 
races,  not  individually  but  bodily.  The  expression  "  gods 
and  men,"  occurring  in  the  traditions  of  various  peoples,  is 
made  readily  interpretable. 

We  assume  that,  as  a  matter  of  course,  every  tribe  of 
savages  has  a  word  meaning  a  human  being,  applicable 
equally  to  members  of  their  own  tribe  and  to  members  of 
other  tribes;  but,  as  usual,  we  are  misled  by  assimilating 
their  thoughts  and  language  to  ours.  Often  their  name  for 
men  is  their  tribal  name.  Already  we  have  seen  that  in 
South  America,  among  the  Guaranis,  the  same  word  means 
man  and  Guarani.  The  North  American  people  who  call 
themselves  Thlinkeets,  have  no  word  but  this  to  signify 
human  beings;  and  an  adjacent  people,  the  Tinneh,  furnish 
a  parallel  case.  Pirn  and  Seemann  tell  us  that — 

"The  distinctive  appellation  of  the  Mosquitoes  amongst  them- 
selves is  'Waikna'  'man, 'and  all  the  other  tribes  imitate  them  in 
this  conceit;  indeed,  it  is  a  common  practice  amongst  the  Indians  of 
the  American  continent,  from  the  dwellers  furthest  north,  Esqui- 
maux, who  call  themselves  '  Innuit '  '  men,1  par  excellence,  as  far  south 
as  the  Araucanians,  the  Patagonians,  and  even  the  wretched  natives 
of  Tierra  del  Fuego." 


410  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Similarly  in  Africa,  the  native  name  for  the  Kaffir  tribes  is 
Abantu,  Bantu  (plural  of  ntu,  a  man) ;  and  for  the  Hotten- 
tot tribes  the  designation  is  Koi-kom  (i.  e.,  "  men  of  men," 
from  koi,  a  man).  In  Asia  it  is  thus  with  the  Karens:  "  a 
few  of  the  tribes  only  have  distinctive  names  for  themselves, 
and  all,  when  speaking  of  each  other,  use  the  word  for  man 
to  designate  themselves."  The  Kamschadales,  again,  "  have 
no  designation  either  for  themselves  or  their  country.  They 
called  themselves  simply  men,  as  considering  themselves 
either  the  only  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  or  so  far  surpassing 
all  others  as  to  be  alone  worthy  of  this  title."  Indeed,  Nils- 
son,  generalizing  such  facts,  says  that  "  all  rude  nations 
apply  the  designation  '  men  '  to  themselves  only,  all  others 
being  differently  designated." 

What  will  happen  when  savages  who  call  themselves 
"  men  "  are  conquered  by  savages  otherwise  called,  but 
proved  by  the  conquest  to  have  that  superiority  which  in  the 
primitive  mind  is  equivalent  to  divinity?  Clearly,  the 
names  of  conquering  and  conquered  will  become  equivalent 
in  their  meanings  to  *'  gods  and  men."  In  some  cases,  in- 
deed, the  name  by  which  the  conquerors  call  themselves 
will  necessitate  this.  We  read  of  the  Tupis  that  "  Tupa  is 
their  word  for  father,  for  the  Supreme  Being,  and  for  thun- 
der; it  passed  by  an  easy  process  from  the  first  of  these 
meanings  to  the  last,  and  the  barbarous  vanity  of  some  tribes 
compounded  from  it  a  name  for  themselves."  So  that  if 
these  children  of  Tupa,  which  means  "  children  of  God," 
subjugate  a  people  whose  name  is  equivalent  to  "  men," 
the  distinction  of  the  two  as  "  gods  and  men  "  becomes  in- 
evitable. 

With  such  evidence  before  us,  what  shall  we  think  about 
the  "  gods  and  men  "  who  figure  in  the  legends  of  higher 
races?  On  learning  from  Nilsson  that  in  Scandinavia  there 
are  distinct  traces  of  the  antagonism  of  aboriginal  races  to 
colonists,  as  early  as  the  stone  and  bronze  periods;  and  on 
then  reading  in  Scandinavian  traditions  about  Odin,  Freyr, 


DEITIES. 

Xiord,  and  the  rest,  coming  from  Godheim  (god's-home  or 
land)  to  Menheim  (menVhome  or  land);  ruling  there  and 
being  worshipped;  dying  there  believing  that  they  were 
going  back  to  Godheim,  just  as  barbarous  peoples  every- 
where believe  that  they  return  after  death  to  fatherland; 
we  shall  conclude  that  these  "  gods  and  men  "  were  simply 
conquering  and  conquered  races :  all  mythological  interpre- 
tations notwithstanding.  "When  we  find  that,  as  given  by 
Pausanias,  a  popular  legend  among  the  Greeks  was  that  the 
ancient  Arcadians  "  were  guests  and  table-companions  of 
the  gods,"  we  shall  not  set  this  down  as  a  fiction  devised  after 
the  gods  had  been  created  by  personalizing  the  powers  of 
nature ;  but  shall  infer  that  the  tradition  had  its  root  in  those 
conquests  of  earlier  races  by  later  implied  in  Hesiod — con- 
quests such  as  must  certainly  have  been  going  on,  and  must 
certainly  have  left  exaggerated  narratives.  So,  too,  when 
"  the  sons  of  god  saw  the  daughters  of  men  "  in  Hebrew 
story.  If  we  recall  the  reprobation  which  has  everywhere 
been  visited  on  the  intermarriage  of  a  conquering  caste  and 
a  subject  caste — if  we  remember  that  in  Greek  belief  it  was 
a  transgression  for  the  race  of  gods  to  fall  in  love  with  the 
race  of  men — if  we  add  the  fact  that  in  our  own  feudal 
times  union  of  nobles  with  serfs  was  a  crime ;  we  shall  have 
little  difficulty  in  seeing  how  there  originated  the  story  of 
the  fall  of  the  angels. 

Any  one  who,  after  considering  this  evidence,  remem- 
bers that  from  the  names  and  natures  ascribed  by  existing 
savage  peoples  to  Europeans,  legends  of  "  gods  and  men  " 
are  even  now  arising,  will,  I  think,  scarcely  hesitate.  Re- 
maining doubt  will  disappear  on  reading  the  legend  of  the 
Quiche's,  which  gives,  with  sufficient  clearness,  the  story  of 
invaders  who,  seizing  an  elevated  region,  and  holding  in  ter- 
ror the  natives  of  the  lower  lands,  became  the  deities  of  tho 
surrounding  country,  and  their  mountain  residence  the  local 
Olympus.  (See  Appendix  A.) 


412  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

§  201.  This  brings  us  once  more  to  the  Aryan  gods,  as 
seen  from  another  point  of  view.  That  we  may  judge  which 
hypothesis  best  fits  the  facts,  let  us  observe  how  the  early 
Greeks  actually  conceived  their  gods :  ignoring  the  question 
how  they  got  their  conceptions.  And  let  us  compare  their 
pantheon  with  the  pantheon  of  another  race — say  that  of  the 
Fijians.  Any  one  who  objects  to  the  comparison  as  insult- 
ing, needs  only  to  be  reminded  that  cannibalism  was  ascribed 
to  some  of  their  deities  by  the  Greeks ;  and  that  human  sacri- 
fices to  Zeus  were  continued  down  to  late  times. 

The  Greek  god  is  everywhere  presented  to  us  under  the 
guise  of  a  powerful  man;  as  is  the  Fijian.  Among  the 
Fijians,  "  gods  sometimes  assume  the  human  form,  and  are 
thus  seen  by  men ;  "  and  how  common  was  a  like  theophany 
among  the  Greeks,  the  1 Had  shows  us  page  after  page.  So 
like  a  man  was  the  Greek  god,  that  special  insight,  super- 
naturally  given,  was  required  to  distinguish  him;  and,  as 
we  have  seen,  it  is  difficult  to  find  what  is  the  difference  be- 
tween a  god  and  a  chief  among  the  Fijians.  In  the  Fijian 
pantheon  there  are  grades  and  divided  functions — a  chief 
god,  mediating  gods,  gods  over  different  things  and  places: 
thus  paralleling  the  Greek  pantheon,  which  was  a  hierarchy 
with  a  distribution  of  ranks  and  duties.  Fijian  deities  may 
be  classed  into  gods  proper  and  deified  mortals — some  whose 
apotheosis  has  dropped  out  of  memory  and  some  whose 
apotheosis  is  remembered;  and  there  were  apotheosized 
mortals,  too,  among  the  Greek  deities.  A  descriptive  title 
of  one  of  the  Fijian  gods  is  "  the  Adulterer  " — a  title  appli- 
cable to  sundry  Greek  gods.  Another  name  is  "  the  Woman- 
stealer  " — a  name  not  undeserved  by  Zeus.  Yet  a  further 
sobriquet  borne  by  a  Fijian  god  is  "  Fresh-from-the-slaugh- 
ter;  "  which  would  answer  for  Ares,  who  is  called  "  the 
Blood-stainer."  The  Fijian  gods  love  and  hate,  are  proud 
and  revengeful,  and  make  war,  and  kill  and  eat  one  another; 
and  if  we  include  the  earlier  generations  of  Greek  gods,  kin- 
dred atrocities  are  told  of  them.  Though  fighting  does  not 


DEITIES.  413 

remain  conspicuous,  still  there  is  the  conspiracy  from  which 
Zeus  was  saved  by  Thetis;  and  there  is  perpetual  squab- 
bling and  vituperation:  even  Zeus  being  vilified  by  his 
daughter  Athene,  as  well  as  by  the  divine  shrew  Here.  The 
Fijian  gods  play  one  another  tricks,  as  did  also  the  gods  of 
the  Greeks.  Sometimes  the  Fijians  "  get  angry  with  their 
deities  and  abuse  and  even  challenge  them  to  fight;  "  and 
among  the  Greeks,  too,  there  was  abuse  of  the  gods  even  to 
their  faces,  as  of  Aphrodite  by  Helen,  and  if  there  was  not 
challenging  to  fight,  still  there  was  fighting  with,  and  even 
victory  over,  gods,  as  of  Diomede  over  Ares,  and  there  was 
threatening  of  gods,  as  when  Laomedon  refusing  to  pay 
Poseidon  his  wages,  said  he  would  cut  off  his  ears.  The 
Fijians  have  a  story  of  a  god  who  tumbled  out  of  a  canoe, 
and,  being  picked  up  by  a  woman,  was  taken  to  a  chief's 
house  to  dry  himself — a  story  against  which  we  may  set  that 
of  Dionysus,  who,  frightened  by  the  Thracian  Lycurgus, 
took  refuge  in  the  sea,  and  who  when  seized  by  pirates  \vas 
carried  bound  on  board  their  vessel.  Though  Dionysus 
unbound  himself,  we  are  reminded  that  in  other  cases  gods 
remained  subject  to  men;  as  was  Proteus,  and  as  was  even 
Ares,  when  Otus  and  Ephialtes  kept  him  in  prison  thirteen 
months,  and  as  was  Apollo  when  a  slave  to  Laomedon. 
Thus,  however  material  and  human  are  the  Fijian  gods, 
living,  eating,  acting  as  men  do;  the  gods  of  the  Greeks  are 
represented  as  no  less  material  and  human.  They  talk,  and 
banquet,  and  drink,  and  amuse  themselves  during  the  day, 
and  go  to  bed  at  sunset:  "  the  Olympian  thunderer,  Zeus, 
went  to  his  couch  "  and  slept.  They  are  pierced  by  men's 
weapons.  Ares'  wound  is  healed  by  a  "  pain-assuaging  plas- 
ter; "  and  Aphrodite,  after  some  loss  of  blood  and  being 
distracted  with  pain,  borrows  her  brother's  chariot  and 
drives  off  to  Olympus  to  be  similarly  doctored.  All  their 
attributes  and  acts  are  in  keeping  with  this  conception.  In 
battle  Here  simulates  Stentor  in  appearance  and  voice; 
Apollo  shouts  from  Pergamus  to  exhort  the  Trojans:  Iris 


414  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

coines  "  running  down  from  Olympus;  "  and  the  celestial 
chariots,  made  in  earthly  fashion  of  earthly  materials,  are 
drawn  by  steeds  that  are  lashed  and  goaded,  through  the 
gates  of  Heaven  which  creak.  The  single  fact  that  Zeus  is 
on  visiting  terms  with  "  the  milk-fed  men  of  Thrace,"  suf- 
fices of  itself  to  show  how  little  the  divine  was  distinguished 
from  the  human,  and  how  essentially  parallel  were  the  Greek 
conceptions  to  the  conceptions  which  the  Fijians  now 
show  us. 

Here,  then,  is  the  question.  Similar  as  these  conceptions 
are,  were  they  similarly  generated?  Beyond  all  doubt  the 
Fijian  pantheon  has  arisen  by  that  apotheosis  of  men  which 
was  still  going  on  when  travellers  went  among  them ;  and  if 
we  say  that  by  the  Greeks,  who  also  apotheosized  men,  a 
pantheon  was  generated  in  like  manner,  the  interpretation 
is  consistent.  We  are  forbidden  to  suppose  this,  however. 
These  Greek  gods,  with  their  human  structures,  dispositions, 
acts,  histories,  resulted  from  the  personalization  of  natural 
objects  and  powers.  So  that,  marvellous  to  relate,  identical 
conceptions  have  been  produced  by  diametrically  oppo- 
site processes!  Here  we  see  an  ascending  growth  of  men 
into  gods;  there  we  see  a  descending  condensation  of 
natural  powers  into  gods;  and  the  two  sets  of  gods,  created 
by  these  two  contrary  methods,  are  substantially  the 
same! 

Even  in  the  absence  of  all  the  foregoing  chapters,  those 
who  are  not  wedded  to  an  hypothesis  will,  I  think,  say  that 
evidence  widely  different  in  amount  and  quality  from  that 
which  the  mythologists  offer,  is  required  to  demonstrate  so 
astonishing  a  coincidence. 

§  202.'  Must  we  recognize  a  single  exception  to  the  gen- 
eral truth  thus  far  verified  everywhere?  While  among  all 
races  in  all  regions  the  conceptions  of  deities  have  been  nat- 
urally evolved  in  the  way  shown;  must  we  conclude  that  a 
small  clan  of  the  Semitic  race  had  given  to  it  supernaturally, 


DEITIES.  415 

a  conception  which,  though  superficially  like  the  rest,  was  in 
substance  absolutely  unlike  them? 

Education,  the  social  sanction,  and  an  authority  pos- 
sessed of  imposing  credentials,  lead  nearly  all  to  assume  that 
the  genesis  of  their  own  idea  of  deity  differs  fundamentally 
from  the  genesis  of  every  other  idea.  So  unhesitatingly, 
indeed,  do  they  assume  this,  that  they  think  it  impious  to 
ask  whether  any  parallelism  exists.  In  the  case  of  another 
creed  they  can  see  the  mischief  which  arises  from  refusal 
to  examine.  The  saying  of  Euripides  that  "  in  things  which 
touch  the  gods  it  is  not  good  to  suffer  captious  reason  to  in- 
trude," will  readily  draw  from  them  the  remark  that  a  faith 
profound  enough  to  negative  criticism,  fosters  superstition. 
Still  more  on  finding  that  the  cannibal  Fijians,  accepting 
humbly  the  established  dogmas  respecting  their  blood- 
thirsty deities,  assert  that  u  punishment  is  sure  to  overtake 
the  sceptic;  "  they  can  see  clearly  enough  how  vile  may 
be  the  belief  which  defends  itself  by  interdicting  inquiry, 
but,  looking  at  the  outsides  of  other  creeds,  antagonistically, 
and  at  their  own  creed  from  within,  sympathetically,  they 
cannot  think  possible  that  in  their  case  a  kindred  mischief 
may  result  from  a  kindred  cause.  On  reading  that  when  the 
Spaniards  arrived  in  Mexico,  the  natives,  thinking  them 
gods,  offered  up  human  beings  to  them,  it  is  allowable  to  ask 
whether  the  ideas  and  motives  of  these  people  were  analogous 
to  those  of  the  Scandinavian  king  On,  when  he  immolated 
his  son  to  Odin ;  but  it  is  not  allowable  to  ask  whether  like 
ideas  and  motives  prompted  Abraham's  intention  to  sacrifice 
Isaac.  The  above-cited  fact  that  Barth  was  taken  by  the 
Fulahs  for  their  god,  Fe"te,  may  properly  raise  the  question 
whether,  if  there  had  arisen  a  quarrel  between  his  party  and 
the  Fulahs  in  which  he  was  worsted  by  one  of  their  chiefs, 
there  might  not  have  grown  up  a  legend  akin  to  that  which 
tells  how  the  god  Ares  was  worsted  by  Diomede;  but  it  is 
highly  improper  to  raise  the  question  wrhether  the  story  of 
Jacob's  struggle  with  the  Lord  had  an  origin  of  allied  kind. 


416  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Here,  however,  pursuing  the  methods  of  science,  and  dis- 
regarding foregone  conclusions,  we  must  deal  with  the  He- 
brew conception  in  the  same  manner  as  with  all  others ;  and 
must  ask  whether  it  had  not  a  kindred  genesis. 

What  the  primitive  Semitic  notion  of  a  deity  was,  we 
may  prepare  ourselves  to  see  by  contemplating  the  notion 
of  a  deity  which  is  entertained  by  wandering  Semites  at  the 
present  time.  Already  I  have  quoted  from  Mr.  Palgrave 
one  illustration  of  it,  and  here  is  another. 

"  'What  will  you  do  on  coming  into  God's  presence  for  judg- 
ment after  so  graceless  a  life  ? '  said  I  one  day  to  a  spirited  young 
Sherarat.  .  .  .  '  What  will  we  do  ? '  was  his  unhesitating  answer, 
'  why,  we  will  go  up  to  God  and  salute  him,  and  if  he  proves  hos- 
pitable (gives  us  meat  and  tobacco),  we  will  stay  with  him ;  if  other- 
wise, we  will  mount  our  horses  and  ride  off.'  .  .  .  Were  I  not  afraid 
of  an  indictment  for  profaneness,  I  might  relate  fifty  similar  anec- 
dotes at  least." 

Clearly,  then,  the  existing  Semitic  idea  of  deity,  is  no  higher 
than  that  which  other  races  have  shown  us ;  and  the  question 
is,  whether  the  ancient  Semites  had  an  idea  not  only  abso- 
lutely unlike  that  of  all  other  races  but  absolutely  unliko 
that  of  their  modern  kindred. 

To  find  a  clear  answer  in  traditions  recorded  by  different 
writers  at  different  dates — traditions  with  which  are  incor- 
porated stories  and  conceptions  derived  from  adjacent  more 
civilized  peoples;  is  of  course  difficult.  The  difficulty  is 
increased  by  the  established  habit  of  carrying  back  devel- 
oped ideas  to  the  interpretation  of  early  statements;  as  by 
commentators  who  explain  away  certain  highly  concrete 
descriptions  of  divine  actions  as  "anthropomorphic  language 
suited  to  the  teaching  of  man  in  a  state  of  simple  and  par- 
tial civilization."  If,  however,  we  reject  non-natural  inter- 
pretations, and  infer,  as  analogy  warrants,  that  the  most 
crudely  anthropomorphic  descriptions  are  the  original  ones, 
we  shall  find  the  difficulty  less. 

Abraham  is  described  as  doing  that  which  primitive 
men,  and  especially  nomads,  are  often  compelled  to  do  by 


DEITIES.  417 

increase  of  numbers — leaving  his  kindred  and  migrating  to 
a  new  dwelling-place:  separating,  as  he  afterwards  sepa- 
rated from  Lot,  to  get  pasturage.  That  he  thinks  himself 
supernaturally  prompted,  apparently  by  a  vision,  recalls  the 
ideas  of  kindred  Semites  now  existing,  of  whom  Baker  tells 
us  that  "  if  in  a  dream  a  particular  course  of  action  is  sug- 
gested, the  Arab  believes  that  God  has  spoken  and  directed 
him."  The  new  territory  he  migrates  to,  the  story  repre- 
sents as  made  over  to  him;  and  the  question  is — Was  Abra- 
ham dealing  with  a  terrestrial  potentate,  or  with  the  Power 
by  which  planets  gravitate  and  stars  shine? 

The  words  applied  to  this  giver  of  the  territory  are  ex- 
pressive simply  of  superiority.  Elcihim*  in  some  cases  trans- 
lated gods,  is  applied  also  to  kings,  judges,  powerful  persons, 
and  to  other  things  great  or  high.  So,  too,  Adonai  is  indis- 
criminately used  (as  "  Lord  "  is  among  ourselves),  to  a  being 
regarded  as  supernatural  and  to  a  living  man.  Kuenen  says 
the  meaning  of  Shaddaiis  "  '  the  mighty  one,'  or  perhaps 
still  more  exactly,  '  the  violent  one:  '  '  a  title  harmonizing 
with  the  titles  of  Assyrian  kings,  who  delight  in  comparing 
themselves  to  whirlwinds  and  floods.  Even  the  more  ex- 
alted names  find  their  parallels  in  those  of  neighbouring 
rulers.  When,  in  the  cuneiform  inscriptions,  we  find  Tig- 
lath-pileser  called  "  king  of  kings,  lord  of  lords,"  we  see  that 
there  is  nothing  exceptional  in  the  title  "  god  of  gods,  and 
lord  of  lords,  a  great  god,  a  mighty  and  terrible:  "  a  de- 
scription implying  that  the  Hebrew  god  is  one  of  many, 
distinguished  by  his  supremacy. 

By  this  being  who  bears  titles  such  as  are  borne  by  ter- 
restrial potentates,  Abraham  is  promised  certain  benefits  to 
be  given  in  return  for  homage.  When  he  complains  that 
the  promise  has  not  been  fulfilled,  he  is  pacified  by  renewed 
promises.  Finally,  a  covenant  is  made — Abraham  is  to  have 
"  all  the  land  of  Canaan,"  while  the  giver  is  "  to  be  a  god 
unto  "  him.  The  supposition  that  such  an  agreement  was 
entered  into  between  the  First  Cause  of  things  and  a  shep- 


418  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

herd  chief,  would  be  an  astounding  one  were  it  admissible ; 
but  it  is  excluded  by  the  words  used.  The  expression  "  a 
god  "  negatives  the  conception  on  either  side  of  a  supreme 
universal  power.  If,  however,  instead  of  supposing  that 
"  a  god  "'  is  here  used  to  mean  a  supernatural  being,  we 
suppose  that  it  is  used,  as  by  the  existing  Arab,  to  mean  a 
powerful  ruler,  the  statement  becomes  consistent. 

Still  more  clearly  have  we  the  same  implications  in  the 
ceremony  by  which  the  covenant  is  established.  Abraham, 
and  each  of  his  male  descendants,  and  each  of  his  male 
slaves,  is  circumcised.  The  mark  of  the  covenant,  observe, 
is  to  be  borne  not  only  by  Abraham  and  those  of  his  blood, 
but  also  by  those  of  other  blood  whom  he  has  bought.  The 
[mark  is  a  strange  one,  and  the  extension  of  it  is  a  strange 
one,  if  we  assume  it  to  be  imposed  by  the  Creator  of  the 
Universe,  on  a  favoured  man  and  his  descendants;  and  on 
this  assumption  it  is  no  less  strange  that  the  one  transgres- 
sion for  which  every  "  soul  shall  be  cut  off,"  is  not  any 
crime,  but  is  the  neglect  of  this  rite.  Such  a  ceremony, 
however,  insisted  on  by  a  living  potentate  under  penalty  of 
death,  is  not  strange ;  for,  as  we  shall  hereafter  see,  circum- 
cision is  one  of  various  mutilations  imposed  as  marks  on 
subject  persons  by  terrestrial  superiors. 

And  now,  passing  from  collateral  to  direct  evidence,  ob- 
serve the  idea  which  Abraham  is  himself  represented  as 
forming  of  this  being  with  whom  he  has  covenanted.  While 
he  sat  at  his  tent  door,  "  three  men  stood  by  him."  Nothing 
implies  that  they  were  unlike  other  men  or  much  unlike  one 
another.  He  "  bowed  himself  toward  the  ground,"  and 
addressed  one  of  them  "  my  lord."  Asking  them  to  rest  and 
to  wash  their  feet,  he  said  he  would  "  fetch  a  morsel  of  bread, 
and  comfort  ye  your  hearts."  So  that,  regarding  them  as 
tired,  travel-stained,  and  hungry  travellers,  Abraham  treats 
these  "  three  men  "  according  to  those  rites  of  hospitality 
still  observed  by  the  Arabs.  There  is  no  indication  that 
Abraham  suspects  supernaturalness  in  any  of  the  three ;  nor, 


DEITIES.  419 

when  Sarah  laughs  at  the  promise  that  she  shall  have  a  son, 
does  it  seem  that  she,  either,  imagines  she  is  in  the  presence 
of  anything  more  than  a  human  being.  It  is  true  that 
Abraham,  addressing  this  visitor  with  the  title  given  to 
superior  persons,  believes  him  able  to  do  things  we  class 
as  supernatural — ascribes  to  him  the  character  common  to 
primitive  potentates,  who  are  frequently  magicians  as  well 
as  rulers,  like  Solomon — ascribes  to  him  powers  such  as 
savages  now  think  are  possessed  by  Europeans.  But  though, 
while  showing  him  the  road  to  Sodom,  Abraham  talks  in  a 
way  implying  this  belief,  he  implies  no  more.  The  question, 
mark,  is  not  that  which  theologians  raise — Who  actually 
were  these  "  three  men  ?  "  was  the  chief  of  them  Jehovah  ? 
or  his  angel?  or  the  Son?  The  question  is  what  Abraham 
thought;  or  is  described  as  thinking  by  those  who  preserved 
the  tradition.  Either  alternative  has  the  same  ultimate  im- 
plication. If  this  person  to  whom  Abraham  salaams  as  his 
lord,  with  whom  he  has  made  the  covenant,  is  a  terrestrial 
ruler,  as  implied  by  the  indirect  evidence,  the  conclusion  is 
reached  that  the  ancient  Semitic  idea  of  a  deity  was  like 
the  modern  Semitic  idea  cited  above.  And  if,  otherwise, 
Abraham  conceives  this  person  not  as  a  local  ruler  but  as  the 
Maker  of  All  Things,  then  he  believes  the  Earth  and  the 
Heavens  are  produced  by  one  who  eats  and  drinks  and  feels 
weary  after  walking :  his  conception  of  a  deity  still  remains 
identical  with  that  of  his  modern  representative,  and  with 
that  of  the  uncivilized  in  general. 

§  203.  And  so  the  universality  of  anthropomorphism 
has  the  sufficient  cause  that  the  divine  man  as  conceived,  had 
everywhere  for  antecedent  a  powerful  man  as  ^rceived. 
The  abundant  evidence  above  given  that  the  primitive  mind 
frames  the  notion  in  this  way,  may  be  enforced  by  facts 
showing  that  it  fails  to  frame  any  other  notion. 

When  Burton,  encamped  among  the  Eesa,  heard  an  old 
woman  with  the  toothache  exclaiming,  "  O  Allah,  may  thy 


420  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

teeth  ache  like  mine  " — when  he  tells  us  that  the  wilder 
Bedouins  ask  where  Allah  is  to  be  found  that  they  may 
spear  him,  "  because  he  lays  waste  their  homes  and  kills  their 
cattle  "•  —when,  according  to  Moffat,  the  Hottentots,  not- 
withstanding missionary  instruction,  regard  the  Christian 
god  as  "  a  notable  warrior  of  great  physical  strength  " — 
when,  as  Hunter  narrates,  a  Santal,  responding  to  a  mis- 
sionary's account  of  God's  omnipotence,  said,  "  and  what  if 
that  Strong  One  should  eat  me;  "  we  are  not  only  taught 
that  the  undeveloped  mind  conceives  God  as  a  powerful 
man,  but  that  it  is  incapable  of  any  higher  conception.  Even 
a  people  so  cultured  as  the  ancient  Egyptians  failed  to  con- 
ceive of  gods  as  differing  fundamentally  from  men.  Says 
Renouf — "  All  the  gods  are  liable  to  be  forced  to  grant  the 
prayers  of  men,  through  fear  of  threats  which  it  is  incon- 
ceivable to  us  that  any  intelligence  but  that  of  idiots  should 
have  believed." 

A  like  implication  everywhere  meets  us  in  the  aboriginal 
belief  that  gods  are  mortal.  In  a  Quiche"  legend,  given  by 
Bancroft,  we  read — "  so  they  died  like  gods;  and  each  left 
to  the  sad  and  wondering  men  who  were  his  servants,  his 
garments  for  a  memorial."  The  writers  of  the  Vedic  hymns, 
says  Muir,  "  looked  upon  the  gods  "  as  "  confessedly  mere 
created  beings;  "  and  they,  like  men,  were  made  immortal 
by  drinking  soma.  In  the  legend  of  Buddha  it  is  stated  that 
the  prince,  inquiring  about  a  corpse,  was  told  by  his  guide — 
"  This  is  the  final  destiny  of  all  flesh:  gods  and  men,  rich 
and  poor,  alike  must  die."  We  saw  that  the  Scandinavian 
gods  died  and  were  burnt — returning  thereafter  to  Asgard. 
So,  too,  the  Egyptian  gods  lived  and  died :  there  are  frescoes 
at  Philae  and  at  Abydos  showing  the  burial  of  Osiris.  And 
though  in  the  Greek  pantheon,  the  death  of  gods  is  exempli- 
fied only  in  the  case  of  Pan,  yet  their  original  mortality  is 
implied  by  the  legends;  for  how  could  Apollo  have  been  a 
slave  to  Laomedon,  if  he  then  had  that  power  of  assuming 
and  throwing-off  the  material  form  at  will,  which  is 


DEITIES.  421 

possessed  in  common  by  the  Greek  god  and  the  primitive 
ghost? 

How  deeply  rooted  are  these  ideas  of  deities,  is  further 
shown  by  the  slowness  with  which  culture  changes  them. 
Down  to  civilized  times  the  Greeks  thought  of  their  gods  as 
material  persons.  About  550  B.  c.  they  believed  in  a  living 
woman  palmed  upon  them  as  Athene;  and  in  490  B.  c.,  to 
Phidippides  on  his  way  from  Athens  to  Sparta,  Pan,  meet- 
ing him,  complains  of  neglect.  Mahomet  had  to  forbid  the 
adoration  which  certain  of  his  followers  offered  him;  and 
about  A.  D.  1000  the  Caliph  Hakem  was  worshipped  while 
living,  and  is  still  worshipped  by  the  Druses.  Paul  and 
Barnabas  were  treated  as  gods  by  the  priest  and  people  of 
Lystra.  And  the  sculpture,  painting,  and  literature  of  medi- 
aeval Europe,  show  how  grossly  anthropomorphic  was  the 
conception  of  deity  which  prevailed  down  to  recent  centu- 
ries. Only  alluding  to  the  familiar  evidence  furnished  by 
the  mystery-plays,  it  will  suffice  if  I  instance  the  Old-French 
verses  which  describe  God's  illness  as  cured  by  laughter  at 
a  dancing  rhymer  (see  Appendix  A).  Nor  among  some 
Catholic  peoples  are  things  much  better  now.  Just  as  the 
existing  savage  beats  his  idol  if  his  hopes  are  not  fulfilled — 
just  as  the  ancient  Arcadian  was  apt  "  to  scourge  and  prick 
Pan  if  he  came  back  empty-handed  from  the  chase ;  "  so,  an 
Italian  peasant  or  artizan  will  occasionally  vent  his  anger  by 
thrashing  a  statue  of  the  Madonna:  as  in  Milan  in  Sept., 
1873,  and  as  at  Rome  not  long  before.  Instead  of  its  being 
true  that  ideas  of  deity  such  as  are  entertained  by  cultivated 
people,  are  innate;  it  is,  contrariwise,  true  that  they  arise 
only  at  a  comparatively  advanced  stage,  as  results  of  ac- 
cumulated knowledge,  greater  intellectual  grasp,  and  higher 
sentiment. 

§  204.  Behind  the  supernatural  being  of  this  order,  as 
behind  supernatural  beings  of  all  other  orders,  we  thus  find 
that  there  has  in  every  case  been  a  human  personality. 
28 


422  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

Anything  which  transcends  the  ordinary,  a  savage 
thinks  of  as  supernatural  or  divine:  the  remarkable  man 
among  the  rest.  This  remarkable  man  may  be  simply  the 
remotest  ancestor  remembered  as  the  founder  of  the  tribe; 
he  may  be  a  chief  famed  for  strength  and  bravery;  he  may 
be  a  medicine-man  of  great  repute;  he  may  be  an  inventor 
of  something  new.  And  then,  instead  of  being  a  member 
of  the  tribe,  he  may  be  a  superior  stranger  bringing  arts 
and  knowledge;  or  he  may  be  one  of  a  superior  race  pre- 
dominating by  conquest.  Being  at  first  one  or  other  of 
these,  regarded  with  awe  during  his  life,  he  is  regarded  with 
increased  awe  after  his  death;  and  the  propitiation  of  his 
ghost,  becoming  greater  than  the  propitiation  of  ghosts 
which  are  less  feared,  develops  into  an  established  worship. 

There  is  no  exception  then.  Using  the  phrase  ancestor- 
Avorship  in  its  broadest  sense  as  comprehending  all  worship 
of  the  dead,  be  they  of  the  same  blood  or  not,  we  conclude 
that  ancestor-worship  is  the  root  of  every  religion.* 

*  Important  additional  facts  and  arguments,  bearing  directly  and  indirect- 
ly on  this  conclusion,  will  be  found  in  the  Appendices.  Appendix  A  gives 
many  further  illustrations ;  Appendix  B  contains  a  criticism  on  the  theory  of 
the  mythologists  ;  and  Appendix  C  a  criticism  on  their  method. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE    PRIMITIVE    THEORY    OF    THINGS. 

§  205.  THAT  seeming  chaos  of  puerile  assumptions  and 
monstrous  inferences,  making  up  the  vast  mass  of  super- 
stitious beliefs  everywhere  existing,  thus  falls  into  order 
when,  instead  of  looking  back  upon  it  from  our  advanced 
stand-point,  we  look  forward  upon  it  from  the  stand-point  of 
the  primitive  man. 

Interpreters  of  early  conceptions  err  in  ways  like  those 
in  which  teachers  of  the  young  err.  Never  having  studied 
Psychology,  the  pedagogue  has  but  the  dimmest  notion  of 
his  pupil's  mind;  and,  thinking  of  the  undeveloped  intel- 
lect as  though  it  had  ideas  which  only  the  developed  intellect 
can  have,  he  presents  it  with  utterly  incomprehensible  facts 
— generalizations  before  there  exist  in  it  the  things  to  be 
generalized,  and  abstractions  while  there  are  none  of  the 
concrete  experiences  from  which  such  abstractions  are  de- 
rived: so  causing  bewilderment  and  an  appearance  of  stu- 
pidity. Similarly,  narrators  of  primitive  legends  and  specu- 
lators about  the  superstitions  of  savages,  carry  with  them 
the  general  notions  civilization  has  developed,  and,  credit- 
ing the  savage  with  these,  either  express  an  unreasoning 
wonder  that  he  should  think  as  he  does,  or  else,  seeking  to 
explain  his  thoughts,  give  explanations  which  ascribe  to  him 
ideas  he  cannot  have. 

When,  however,  we  cease  to  figure  his  mental  processes 
in  terms  of  our  own,  the  confusion  disappears.  When,  veri- 

423 


424  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

fying  a  priori  inference  by  a  posteriori  proof,  we  recognize 
the  fact  that  the  primitive  man  does  not  distinguish  natural 
from  unnatural,  possible  from  impossible;  knows  nothing 
of  physical  law,  order,  cause,  etc. ;  and  that  while  he  shows 
neither  rational  surprise  nor  the  curiosity  which  prompts 
examination,  he  lacks  fit  words  for  carrying  on  inquiry,  as 
well  as  the  requisite  power  of  continued  thinking;  we  see 
that  instead  of  being  a  speculator  and  maker  of  explana- 
tions, he  is  at  first  an  almost  passive  recipient  of  conclusions 
forced  on  him.  Further,  we  find  that  he  is  inevitably  be- 
trayed into  an  initial  error;  and  that  this  originates  an  erro- 
neous system  of  thought  which  elaborates  as  he  advances. 
How  natural  is  the  evolution  of  this  system  of  thought, 
we  shall  perceive  on  now  recapitulating,  in  the  briefest  way, 
the  results  reached  in  the  foregoing  eighteen  chapters. 

§  206.  Changes  in  the  sky  and  on  the  earth,  occurring 
hourly,  daily,  and  at  shorter  or  longer  intervals,  go  on  in 
ways  about  which  the  savage  knows  nothing — unexpected 
appearances  and  disappearances,  transmutations,  metamor- 
phoses. While  seeming  to  show  that  arbitrariness  character- 
izes all  actions,  these  foster  the  notion  of  a  duality  in  the 
things  which  become  visible  and  vanish,  or  which  transform 
themselves;  and  this  notion  is  confirmed  by  experiences  of 
shadows,  reflections,  and  echoes. 

The  impressions  thus  produced  by  converse  with  exter- 
nal nature,  favour  a  belief  set  up  by  a  more  definite  experi- 
ence— the  experience  of  dreams.  Having  no  conception  of 
mind,  the  primitive  man  regards  a  dream  as  a  series  of  actual 
occurrences:  he  did  the  things,  went  to  the  places,  saw  the 
persons,  dreamt  of.  Untroubled  by  incongruities,  he  ac- 
cepts the  facts  as  they  stand;  and,  in  proportion  as  he  thinks 
about  them,  is  led  to  conceive  a  double  which  goes  away 
during  sleep  and  comes  back.  This  conception  of  his  own 
duality  seems  confirmed  by  the  somnambulism  occasionally 
witnessed. 


THE  PRIMITIVE  THEORY  OF  THINGS.  425 

More  decisively  does  it  seem  confirmed  by  other  abnor- 
mal insensibilities.  In  swoon,  apoplexy,  catalepsy,  and  the 
unconsciousness  following  violence,  it  appears  that  the 
other-self,  instead  of  returning  at  call,  will  not  return  for 
periods  varying  from  some  minutes  to  some  days.  Occa- 
sionally after  one  of  these  states,  the  other-self  tells  what  has 
happened  in  the  interval ;  occasionally  no  account  of  its  ad- 
ventures can  be  got;  and  occasionally  prolonged  absence 
raises  the  doubt  whether  it  has  not  gone  away  for  an  in- 
definite period. 

The  distinction  between  these  conditions  of  temporary 
insensibility  and  the  condition  of  permanent  insensibility, 
is  one  which,  sometimes  imperceptible  to  instructed  persons, 
cannot  be  perceived  by  the  savage.  The  normal  uncon- 
sciousness of  sleep  from  which  a  man's  double  is  readily 
brought  back,  is  linked  by  these  abnormal  kinds  of  uncon- 
sciousness from  which  the  double  is  brought  back  with  diffi- 
culty, to  that  lasting  kind  of  unconsciousness  from  which  the 
double  cannot  be  brought  back  at  all.  Still,  analogy  leads 
the  savage  to  infer  that  it  will  eventually  come  back.  And 
here,  recalling  the  remark  often  made  among  ourselves  after 
a  death,  that  it  is  difficult  to  believe  the  deceased,  lying  not 
more  quietly  than  he  has  often  done,  will  never  move  again, 
let  me  point  out  how  powerful  over  the  primitive  mind  must 
be  the  association  between  this  sleep-like  quiescence  and  the 
waking  that  habitually  follows — an  association  which,  even 
alone,  must  go  far  towards  suggesting  resurrection.  Such 
resurrection,  shown  by  the  universal  fear  of  the  dead  to  be 
vaguely  imagined  even  by  the  lowest  races,  becomes  clearly 
imagined  in  proportion  as  the  idea  of  a  wandering  duplicate 
is  made  definite  by  the  dream-theory. 

The  second-self  ascribed  to  each  man,  at  first  differs  in 
nothing  from  its  original.  It  is  figured  as  equally  visible, 
equally  material ;  and  no  less  suffers  hunger,  thirst,  fatigue, 
pain.  Indistinguishable  from  the  person  himself,  capable 
of  being  slain,  drowned,  or  otherwise  destroyed  a  second 


426  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

time,  the  original  ghost,  soul,  or  spirit,  differentiates  slowly 
in  supposed  nature.  Having  at  the  outset  but  a  temporary 
second  life,  it  gradually  acquires  a  permanent  one ;  while  it 
deviates  more  and  more  in  substance  from  body :  becoming 
at  length  etherealized. 

This  double  of  the  dead  man,  originally  conceived  as 
like  him  in  all  other  respects,  is  conceived  as  having  like 
occupations.  If  of  predatory  race,  it  fights  and  hunts  as 
before ;  if  of  pastoral,  it  continues  to  tend  cattle,  and  drink 
milk;  if  of  agricultural,  it  resumes  the  business  of  sowing, 
reaping,  etc.  And  from  this  belief  in  a  second  life  thus 
like  the  first,  and  also  like  in  the  social  arrangements  it  is 
subject  to,  there  result  the  practices  of  leaving  with  the 
corpse  food,  drink,  clothes,  weapons,  and  of  sacrificing  at 
the  grave  domestic  animals,  wives,  slaves. 

The  place  in  which  this  life  after  death  is  believed  to  be 
passed,  varies  with  the  antecedents  of  the  race.  Often  ghosts 
are  thought  of  as  mingling  with  their  descendants,  and  por- 
tions of  meals  are  daily  set  aside  for  them;  sometimes  the 
adjacent  forests  are  their  imagined  haunts,  and  they  are 
supposed  to  consume  the  offerings  of  food  left  there ;  while 
in  other  cases  the  idea  is  that  they  have  gone  back  to  the 
region  whence  the  race  came.  This  other-world  is  reached 
by  a  journey  over  land,  or  down  a  river,  or  across  the  sea, 
towards  this  or  that  point  of  the  compass,  according  as  the 
traditions  determine.  Hence  at  the  grave  are  left  fit  appli- 
ances for  the  journey — canoes  for  the  voyage,  or  horses  to 
ride,  dogs  to  guide,  weapons  for  defence,  money  and  pass- 
ports for  security.  And  where  burial  on  a  mountain  range 
entails  belief  in  this  as  a  residence  of  ancestral  ghosts,  or 
where  such  range  has  been  held  by  a  conquering  race,  the 
heavens,  supposed  to  be  accessible  from  the  mountain-tops, 
come  to  be  regarded  as  the  other-world,  or  rather  as  one  of 
the  other-worlds. 

The  doubles  of  dead  men,  at  first  assumed  to  have  but 
temporary  second  lives,  do  not,  in  that  case,  tend  to  form 


THE  PRIMITIVE  THEORY  OF  THINGS.  427 

in  popular  belief  an  accumulating  host ;  but  they  necessarily 
tend  to  form  such  a  host  when  permanent  second  lives  are 
ascribed  to  them.  Swarming  everywhere,  capable  of  appear- 
ing and  disappearing  at  will,  and  working  in  ways  that 
cannot  be  foreseen,  they  are  thought  of  as  the  causes  of  all 
things  which  are  strange,  unexpected,  inexplicable.  Every 
deviation  from  the  ordinary  is  attributed  to  their  agency; 
and  their  agency  is  alleged  even  where  what  we  call  natural 
causation  seems  obvious. 

Regarded  as  workers  of  remarkable  occurrences  in  the 
surrounding  world,  they  are  regarded  as  workers  also  of 
unusual  actions  in  living  persons.  The  body,  deserted  by 
its  other-self  during  insensibility,  normal  or  abnormal,  can 
then  be  entered  by  the  other-self  of  someone  else,  living 
or  dead;  and  hence  to  the  malicious  doubles  of  dead  men 
are  ascribed  epilepsy  and  convulsions,  delirium  and  insanity. 
Moreover,  this  theory  of  possession,  accounting  for  all  those 
bodily  actions  which  the  individual  does  not  will,  makes 
comprehensible  such  acts  as  sneezing,  yawning,  etc.,  and  is 
extended  to  diseases  at  large  and  to  death;  which  is  habit- 
ually ascribed  to  an  invisible  enemy. 

"While  the  entrance  of  friendly  spirits  into  men,  giving 
supernatural  strength  or  knowledge,  is  desired  and  prayed 
for,  this  entrance  of  spirits  which  inflict  evils,  physical  and 
mental,  is  of  course  dreaded;  and  when  it  is  believed  to 
have  occurred,  expulsion  is  the  only  remedy.  The  exorcist, 
by  loud  noises,  frightful  grimaces,  abominable  stenches, 
etc.,  professes  to  drive  out  the  malicious  intruder.  And  this 
simple  form  of  exorcism  is  followed  by  the  developed  form 
in  which  a  more  powerful  spirit  is  called  in  to  help.  Whence, 
also,  there  eventually  grow  up  the  practices  of  the  sorcerer; 
who,  using  means  to  coerce  the  souls  of  the  dead,  commis- 
sions them  to  work  his  evil  ends. 

But  while  primitive  men,  regarding  themselves  as  at  the 
mercy  of  surrounding  ghosts,  try  to  defend  themselves  by 
the  aid  of  the  exorcist  and  the  sorcerer,  who  deal  with  ghosts 


428  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

antagonistically;  there  is  simultaneously  adopted  a  con- 
trary behaviour  towards  ghosts — a  propitiation  of  them. 
Two  opposite  ways  of  treating  the  corpse  show  us  the  diver- 
gence of  these  two  opposite  policies.  In  some  cases  the 
avowed  aim  is  to  prevent  revival  of  the  deceased,  so  that  he 
may  not  trouble  the  living:  a  kind  of  motive  which,  where 
he  is  supposed  to  have  revived,  prompts  antagonistic  deal- 
ings. But  in  most  cases  the  avowed  aim  is  to  secure  the  wel- 
fare of  the  deceased  on  resuscitation :  a  kind  of  motive  which 
prompts  propitiatory  observances. 

Out  of  this  motive  and  these  observances  come  all  forms 
of  worship.  Awe  of  the  ghost  makes  sacred  the  sheltering 
structure  for  the  tomb,  and  this  grows  into  the  temple; 
while  the  tomb  itself  becomes  the  altar.  From  provisions 
placed  for  the  dead,  now  habitually  and  now  at  fixed  inter- 
vals, arise  religious  oblations,  ordinary  and  extraordinary 
— daily  and  at  festivals.  Immolations  and  mutilations  at 
the  grave,  pass  into  sacrifices  and  offerings  of  blood  at  the 
altar  of  a  deity.  Abstinence  from  food  for  the  benefit  of 
the  ghost,  develops  into  fasting  as  a  pious  practice;  and 
journeys  to  the  grave  with  gifts,  become  pilgrimages  to  the 
shrine.  Praises  of  the  dead  and  prayers  to  them,  grow  into 
religious  praises  and  prayers.  And  so  every  holy  rite  is  de- 
rived from  a  funeral  rite. 

After  finding  that  the  earliest  conception  of  a  supernat- 
ural being,  and  the  one  which  remains  common  to  all  races, 
is  that  of  a  ghost;  and  after  finding  that  the  ways  of  pro- 
pitiating a  ghost  were  in  every  case  the  originals  of  the  ways 
of  propitiating  deities ;  the  question  was  raised  whether  the 
ghost  is  not  the  type  of  supernatural  being  out  of  which  all 
other  types  are  evolved.  The  facts  named  in  justification  of 
an  affirmative  answer  were  of  several  classes.  From  the  lips 
of  primitive  peoples  themselves,  were  quoted  proofs  that  out 
of  ghost-worship  in  general,  there  grew  up  the  worship  of 
remote  ancestral  ghosts,  regarded  as  creators  or  deities. 
Worship  of  deities  so  evolved,  we  found  characterized  an- 


THE  PRIMITIVE  THEORY  OP  THINGS.  429 

cient  societies  in  both  hemispheres :  co-existing  in  them  with 
elaborate  worship  of  the  recent  dead.  Evidence  was  given 
that  by  the  highest  races  as  by  the  lowest,  ancestor-worship, 
similarly  practised,  similarly  originated  deities;  and  we  saw 
that  it  even  now  survives  among  the  highest  races,  though 
overshadowed  by  a  more  developed  worship.  Concluding, 
then,  that  from  worship  of  the  dead  every  other  kind  of 
worship  has  arisen,  we  proceeded  to  examine  those  worships 
which  do  not  externally  resemble  it,  to  see  whether  they 
have  traceable  kinships. 

From  the  corpse  receiving  offerings  before  burial,  to  the 
embalmed  body  similarly  cared  for,  and  thence  to  figures 
formed  partly  of  the  dead  man's  remains  and  partly  of  other 
things,  we  passed  to  figures  wholly  artificial :  so  finding  that 
the  elfigy  of  a  dead  man  supplied  with  food,  etc.,  is  then  pro- 
pitiated in  place  of  him.  Proof  was  found  that  this  effigy  of 
the  dead  man  occasionally  becomes  the  idol  of  a  god ;  while 
this  continued  propitiation  becomes  an  established  worship 
of  it.  And  since  the  doubles  of  the  dead,  believed  to  be  pres- 
ent in  these  images  of  them,  are  the  real  objects  to  which 
offerings  are  made;  it  follows  that  all  idolatry,  hence  aris- 
ing, is  a  divergent  development  of  ancestor-worship.  This 
belief  extends.  Objects  rudely  resembling  human  beings, 
and  supposed  parts  of  human  beings,  as  well  as  those  which 
by  contact  with  human  bodies  have"  absorbed  their  odour  or 
spirit,  come  to  be  included;  and  so  it  results  that  resident 
ghosts  are  assumed  in  many  things  besides  idols :  especially 
those  having  extraordinary  appearances,  properties,  actions. 
That  the  propitiation  of  the  inhabiting  ghosts,  constituting 
fetichism,  is  thus  a  collateral  result  of  the  ghost-theory,  is 
shown  by  various  facts;  but  especially  by  the  fact  that 
fetichism  is  absent  where  the  ghost-theory  is  absent  or  but 
little  developed,  and  extends  in  proportion  as  the  ghost- 
theory  evolves. 

It  was  demonstrated  that  animal-worship  is  another  de- 
rivative form  of  ancestor-worship.  Actual  and  apparent 


430  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

metamorphoses  occurring  in  the  experiences  of  the  savage, 
encourage  belief  in  metamorphosis  when  anything  suggests 
it :  all  races  showing  us  that  the  transformation  of  men  into 
animals  and  of  animals  into  men,  is  a  familiar  thought. 
Hence  house-haunting  creatures  are  supposed  to  be  the  dead 
returned  in  new  shapes;  and  creatures  which  frequent  the 
burial-place  are  taken  for  disguised  souls.  Further,  the 
widely-prevalent  habit  of  naming  men  after  animals,  leads, 
by  the  inevitable  misinterpretation  of  traditions,  to  beliefs 
in  descent  from  animals.  And  thus  the  sacred  animal,  now 
treated  with  exceptional  respect,  now  propitiated,  now  wor- 
shipped, acquires  its  divine  character  by  identification  with 
an  ancestor,  near  or  remote. 

Similarly,  plant-worship  is  the  worship  of  a  spirit  origin- 
ally human,  supposed  to  be  contained  in  the  plant — sup- 
posed either  because  of  the  exciting  effects  of  its  products; 
or  because  misapprehended  tradition  raises  the  belief  that 
the  race  descended  from  it;  or  because  a  misinterpreted 
name  identifies  it  with  an  ancestor.  Everywhere  the  plant- 
spirit  is  shown  by  its  conceived  human  form,  and  ascribed 
human  desires,  to  have  originated  from  a  human  personality. 

Even  deification  of  the  greater  objects  and  powers  in 
Mature  has  the  same  root.  When  it  marks  the  place  whence 
the  race  came,  a  mountain  is  described  in  tradition  as  the 
source  or  parent  of  the  race,  as  is  probably  the  sea  in  some 
cases ;  and  both  also  give  family  names :  wrorship  of  them  as 
ancestors  thus  arising  in  two  ways.  Facts  imply  that  the 
conception  of  the  dawn  as  a  person,  results  from  the  giving 
of  Dawn  as  a  birth-name.  The  personalization  of  stars  and 
of  constellations,  we  found  associated  among  inferior  races 
with  the  belief  that  they  are  beings  who  once  lived  on  the 
Earth.  So,  too,  is  it  with  the  Moon.  Traditions  of  people 
in  low  stages  tell  of  the  Moon  as  having  been  originally  a 
man  or  woman ;  and  the  Moon  is  still  a  source  of  birth-names 
among  the  uncivilized :  the  implication  being  that  reverence 
for  it  is  reverence  for  a  departed  person.  Lastly,  worship 


THE,  PRIMITIVE  THEORY  OF  THINGS.  431 

of  the  Sun  is  derived  in  three  ways  from  ancestor-worship. 
Here  conquerors  coming  from  the  region  of  sunrise,  and 
therefore  called  "  children  of  the  Sun,"  come  to  regard  the 
Sun  as  ancestor;  and  there  Sun  is  either  a  birth-name  or  a 
metaphorical  name  given  because  of  personal  appearance,  or 
because  of  achievements,  or  because  of  exalted  position: 
whence  identification  with  the  Sun  in  tradition,  and  conse- 
quent Sun-worship. 

Besides  these  aberrant  developments  of  ancestor-worship 
which  result  from  identification  of  ancestors  with  idols, 
animals,  plants,  and  natural  powers,  there  are  direct  develop- 
ments of  it.  Out  of  the  assemblage  of  ghosts,  some  evolve 
into  deities  who  retain  their  anthropomorphic  characters. 
As  the  divine  and  the  superior  are,  in  the  primitive  mind, 
equivalent  ideas — as  the  living  man  and  re-appearing  ghost, 
are  at  first  confounded  in  early  beliefs — as  ghost  and  god  are 
originally  convertible  terms;  we  may  understand  how  a 
deity  develops  out  of  a  powerful  man,  and  out  of  the  ghost 
of  a  powerful  man,  by  small  steps.  Within  the  tribe  the 
chief,  the  magician,  or  some  one  otherwise  skilled,  held  in 
awe  during  his  life  as  showing  powers  of  unknown  origin 
and  extent,  is  feared  in  a  higher  degree  when,  after  death, 
he  gains  the  further  powers  possessed  by  all  ghosts;  and 
still  more  the  stranger  bringing  new  arts,  as  well  as  the  con- 
queror of  superior  race,  is  treated  as  a  superhuman  being 
during  life  and  afterwards  worshipped  as  a  yet  greater  super- 
human being.  Remembering  that  the  most  marvellous  ver- 
sion of  any  story  commonly  obtains  the  greatest  currency, 
and  that  so,  from  generation  to  generation,  the  deeds  of  such 
traditional  persons  grow  by  unchecked  exaggerations  eager- 
ly listened  to;  we  may  see  that  in  time  any  amount  of  ex- 
pansion and  idealization  can  be  reached. 

Thus,  setting  out  with  the  wandering  double  which  the 
dream  suggests;  passing  to  the  double  that  goes  away  at 
death;  advancing  from  this  ghost,  at  first  supposed  to  have 
but  a  transitory  second  life,  to  ghosts  which  exist  perma- 


432  THE  DATA  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

nently  and  therefore  accumulate ;  the  primitive  man  is  led 
gradually  to  people  surrounding  space  with  supernatural 
beings,  small  and  great,  which  become  in  his  mind  causal 
agents  for  everything  unfamiliar.  And  in  carrying  out  the 
mode  of  interpretation  initiated  in  this  way,  he  is  committed 
to  the  ever-multiplying  superstitions  we  have  traced  out. 

§  207.  How  orderly  is  the  genesis  of  these  beliefs,  will 
be  seen  on  now  observing  that  the  Law  of  Evolution  is  as 
clearly  exemplified  by  it  as  by  every  other  natural  process. 
I  do  not  mean  merely  that  a  system  of  superstitions  arises 
by  continuous  growth,  each  stage  of  which  leads  to  the  next ; 
but  I  mean  that  the  general  formula  of  Evolution  is  con- 
formed to  by  the  changes  gone  through. 

Integration  is,  in  the  first  place,  shown  us  by  simple  in- 
crease of  mass.  In  extremely  low  tribes  which  have  but 
faint  and  wavering  beliefs  in  the  doubles  of  the  dead,  there 
are  no  established  groups  of  supposed  supernatural  beings. 
Among  the  more  advanced,  who  hold  that  dead  members 
of  the  tribe  have  temporary  second  lives,  ghosts  form  an 
imagined  assemblage  which,  though  continually  augmented, 
is  continually  dissolving  away — a  cluster  which  does  not 
increase  because  the  subtractions  equal  the  additions.  But 
when,  later,  there  arises  the  belief  that  ghosts  exist  perma- 
nently, this  cluster  necessarily  grows;  and  its  growth  be- 
comes great  in  proportion  both  as  the  society  enlarges  and 
as  traditions  are  longer  preserved.  Hence  such  a  multipli- 
cation of  supernatural  beings  that  even  the  superior  among 
them  are  scarcely  numerable.  Gomara  tells  us  that  "  the 
gods  of  Mexico  are  said  to  number  2,000 ;  "  and  with  these 
must  be  joined  the  far  more  numerous  demons,  and  spirits 
of  undistinguished  persons,  recognized  in  every  locality.  A 
like  immense  growth  was  exhibited  in  ancient  mythologies; 
and  is  now  exhibited  by  the  mythology  of  India,  as  well  as 
by  that  of  Japan.  Along  with  this  increase  of 

mass,  goes  increase  of  coherence.  The  superstitions  of  the 
primitive  man  are  loose  and  inconsistent:  different  mem- 


THE  PRIMITIVE  THEORY  OP  THINGS.  433 

bers  of  a  tribe  make  different  statements;  and  the  same  in- 
dividual varies  his  interpretations  as  occasion  suggests.  But 
in  course  of  time  the  beliefs  are  elaborated  into  a  well-knit 
system.  Further,  the  hypothesis  to  which  the  ghost-theory 
leads,  initiated  by  anomalous  occurrences,  extends  itself  to 
all  phenomena;  so  that  the  properties  and  actions  of  sur- 
rounding things,  as  well  as  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  men, 
are  ascribed  to  unseen  beings,  who  thus  constitute  a  com- 
bined mechanism  of  causation. 

While  increasing  in  mass  and  in  coherence,  the  super- 
natural aggregate  increases  in  heterogeneity.  Alike  as 
ghosts  are  at  first  conceived  to  be,  they  become  unlike  as 
fast  as  the  tribe  grows,  complicates,  and  begins  to  have  a  his- 
tory: the  ghost-fauna,  almost  homogeneous  at  the  outset, 
differentiates.  Originally,  the  only  distinctions  of  good  or 
bad  among  the  doubles  of  the  dead,  are  such  as  were  shown 
by  the  living  men;  as  are  also  the  only  unlikenesses  of 
power.  But  there  soon  arise  conceived  contrasts  in  good- 
ness between  the  ghosts  of  relatives  and  the  ghosts  of  other 
persons;  as  well  as  stronger  contrasts  between  friendly 
ghosts  belonging  to  the  tribe  and  malicious  ghosts  belong- 
ing to  other  tribes.  When  social  ranks  are  established,  there 
follow  contrasts  of  rank  and  accompanying  potency  among 
supernatural  beings;  which,  as  legends  expand,  grow  more 
and  more  marked.  Eventually  there  is  formed  in  this  way 
a  hierarchy  of  partially-deified  ancestors,  demigods,  great 
gods,  and  among  the  great  gods  one  who  is  supreme ;  while 
there  is  simultaneously  formed  a  hierarchy  of  diabolical 
powers.  Then  come  those  further  differentiations  which 
specialize  the  functions  and  habitats  of  these  supernatural 
beings;  until  each  mythology  has  its  major  and  minor  pre- 
siding agents,  from  Apollo  down  to  a  dryad,  from  Thor  down 
to  a  water-sprite,  from  a  Saint  down  to  a  fairy.  So  that  out 
of  the  originally  small  and  almost  uniform  aggregate  of 
supernatural  beings,  there  gradually  comes  an  aggregate  as 
multiform  as  it  is  vast. 


434  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Change  from  the  indefinite  to  the  definite  is  no  less 
clearly  displayed.  That  early  stage  in  which  men  show  fear 
of  the  dead  and  yet  do  not  themselves  expect  any  future 
existence,  shows  us  an  extreme  indefiniteness  of  the  ghost- 
theory.  Even  after  the  ghost-theory  is  established  the  be- 
liefs in  the  resulting  supernatural  beings,  though  strong, 
are  indistinct.  At  the  same  time  that  Livingstone  describes 
the  people  of  Angola  as  "  constantly  deprecating  the  wrath 
of  departed  souls,"  he  says  that  they  "  have  half-developed 
ideas  and  traditions  of  something  or  other,  they  know  not 
what."  And  kindred  accounts  of  uncivilized  races  else- 
where, are  given  by  various  travellers.  But  with  progress 
conceptions  become  clearer.  The  different  kinds  of  super- 
natural beings  grow  more  defined  in  their  forms,  disposi- 
tions, powers,  habits;  until,  in  developed  mythologies,  they 
are  specifically,  and  even  individually,  distinguished  by  at- 
tributes precisely  stated. 

Undeniably,  then,  a  system  of  superstitions  evolves  after 
the  same  manner  as  all  other  things.  By  continuous  inte- 
gration and  differentiation,  it  is  formed  into  an  aggregate 
which,  while  increasing,  passes  from  an  indefinite  incoherent 
homogeneity  to  a  definite  coherent  heterogeneity.  This 
correspondence  is,  indeed,  inevitable.  The  law  which  is 
conformed  to  by  the  evolving  human  being,  and  which  is 
consequently  conformed  to  by  the  evolving  human  intel- 
ligence, is  of  necessity  conformed  to  by  all  products  of  that 
intelligence.  Showing  itself  in  structures,  and  by  implica- 
tion in  the  functions  of  those  structures,  this  law  cannot  but 
show  itself  in  the  concrete  manifestations  of  those  functions. 
Just  as  language,  considered  as  an  objective  product,  bears 
the  impress  of  this  subjective  process;  so,  too,  does  that 
system  of  ideas  concerning  the  nature  of  things,  which  the 
mind  gradually  elaborates. 

So  that  in  fact  the  hypothesis  of  Evolution  absorbs  the 
antagonist  hypotheses  preceding  it,  and  strengthens  itself 
by  assimilating  their  components. 


CHAPTER  XXYII. 

THE    SCOPE    OF    SOCIOLOGY. 

§  208.  THROUGH  the  minds  of  some  who  are  critical  re- 
specting logical  order,  there  has  doubtless  passed  the  thought 
that,  along  with  the  Data  of  Sociology,  the  foregoing  chap- 
ters have  included  much  which  forms  a  part  of  Sociology 
itself.  Admitting  an  apparent  justification  for  this  objec- 
tion, the  reply  is  that  in  no  case  can  the  data  of  a  science  be 
stated  before  some  knowledge  of  the  science  has  been 
reached;  and  that  the  analysis  which  discloses  the  data  can- 
not be  made  without  reference  to  the  aggregate  of  phenom- 
ena analyzed.  For  example,  in  Biology  the  explanation  of 
functions  implies  knowledge  of  the  various  physical  and 
chemical  actions  going  on  throughout  the  organism.  Yet 
these  actions  become  comprehensible  only  as  fast  as  the  rela- 
tions of  structures  and  reciprocities  of  functions  become 
known;  nay,  they  cannot  even  be  described  without  refer- 
ence to  the  vital  actions  interpreted  by  them.  Similarly  in 
Sociology,  it  is  impossible  to  explain  the  origin  and  develop- 
ment of  those  ideas  and  sentiments  which  are  leading  agents 
in  social  evolution,  without  referring  directly  or  by  implica- 
tion to  the  phases  of  that  evolution. 

The  need  for  this  preliminary  statement  of  data,  and  the 
especial  need  for  the  latter  part  of  it,  will  be  seen  when  the 
results  are  gathered  up,  generalized,  and  formulated. 

§  209.  After  recognizing  the  truth  that  the  phenomena 
of  social  evolution  are  determined  partlv  by  the  external 

488 


436  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

actions  to  which  the  social  aggregate  is  exposed,  and  partly 
by  the  natures  of  its  units;  and  after  observing  that  these 
two  sets  of  factors  are  themselves  progressively  changed  as 
the  society  evolves;  we  glanced  at  these  two  sets  of  factors 
in  their  original  forms. 

A  sketch  was  given  of  the  conditions,  inorganic  and 
organic,  on  various  parts  of  the  earth's  surface;  showing 
the  effects  of  cold  and  heat,  of  humidity  and  dryness,  of 
surface,  contour,  soil,  minerals,  of  floras  and  faunas.  After 
seeing  how  social  evolution  in  its  earlier  stages  depends 
wholly  on  a  favourable  combination  of  circumstances;  and 
after  seeing  that  though,  along  with  advancing  development, 
there  goes  increasing  independence  of  circumstances,  these 
ever  remain  important  factors;  it  was  pointed  out  that  while 
dealing  with  principles  of  evolution  which  are  common  to 
all  societies,  we  might  neglect  those  special  external  factors 
which  determine  some  of  their  special  characters. 

Our  attention  was  then  directed  to  the  internal  factors 
as  rude  societies  display  them.  An  account  was  given  of 
"  The  Primitive  Man — Physical:  "  showing  that  by  stat- 
ure, structure,  strength,  as  well  as  by  callousness  and  lack 
of  energy,  he  was  ill  fitted  for  overcoming  the  difficulties  in 
the  way  of  advance.  Examination  of  "  The  Primitive  Man 
— Emotional,"  led  us  to  see  that  his  improvidence  and  his 
explosiveness,  restrained  but  little  by  sociality  and  by  the 
altruistic  sentiments,  rendered  him  unfit  for  co-operation. 
And  then,  in  the  chapter  on  "  The  Primitive  Man — Intel- 
lectual," we  saw  that  while  adapted  by  its  active  and  acute 
perceptions  to  the  needs  of  a  wild  life,  his  type  of  mind  is 
deficient  in  the  faculties  required  for  progress  in  knowledge. 

After  recognizing  these  as  general  traits  of  the  original 
social  unit,  we  found  that  there  remained  to  be  noted  cer- 
tain more  special  traits,  implied  by  his  ideas  and  their  ac- 
companying sentiments.  This  led  us  to  trace  the  genesis 
of  those  beliefs  concerning  his  own  nature  and  the  nature  of 
surrounding  things,  which  were  summed  up  in  the  last  chap- 


THE  SCOPE  OP  SOCIOLOGY.  437 

ter.  And  now  observe  the  general  conclusion  reached.  It 
is  that  while  the  conduct  of  the  primitive  man  is  in  part 
determined  by  the  feelings  with  which  he  regards  men 
around  him;  it  is  in  part  determined  by  the  feelings  with 
which  he  regards  men  who  have  passed  away.  From  these 
two  sets  of  feelings,  result  two  all-important  sets  of  social 
factors.  While  the  fear  of  the  living  becomes  the  root  of  the 
political  control,  the  fear  of  the  dead  becomes  the  root  of  the 
religious  control.  On  remembering  how  large  a  share  the 
resulting  ancestor-worship  had  in  regulating  life  among  the 
people  who,  in  the  Xile-valley,  first  reached  a  high  civiliza- 
tion— on  remembering  that  the  ancient  Peruvians  were  sub- 
ject to  a  rigid  social  system  rooted  in  an  ancestor- worship  so 
elaborate  that  the  living  might  truly  be  called  slaves  of  the 
dead — on  remembering  that  in  the  lives  of  Greeks  and 
Romans  propitiation  of  the  family  arid  tribal  manes  was 
habitual — on  remembering  that  in  China,  too,  there  has 
been,  and  still  continues,  a  kindred  worship  generating  kin- 
dred restraints;  we  shall  recognize,  in  the  fear  of  the  dead, 
a  social  factor  which  is,  at  first,  not  less  important,  if  indeed 
it  is  not  more  important,  than  the  fear  of  the  living. 

And  thus  is  made  manifest  the  need  for  the  foregoing 
account  of  the  origin  and  development  of  this  trait  in  the 
social  units,  by  which  co-ordination  of  their  actions  is  ren- 
dered possible. 

§  210.  Setting  out  with  social  units  as  thus  condi- 
tioned, as  thus  constituted  physically,  emotionally,  and  intel- 
lectually, and  as  thus  possessed  of  certain  early-acquired 
notions  and  correlative  feelings,  the  Science  of  Sociology 
has  to  give  an  account  of  all  the  phenomena  that  result  from 
their  combined  actions. 

The  simplest  of  such  combined  actions  are  those  by 

which  the  successive  generations  of  units  are  produced, 

reared,  and  fitted  for  co-operation.    The  development  of  the 

family  thus  stands  first  in  order.     The  ways  in  which  the 

29 


438  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

fostering  of  offspring  is  influenced  by  promiscuity,  by  poly- 
andry, by  polygyny,  and  by  monogamy,  have  to  be  traced ; 
as  have  also  the  results  of  exogamous  marriage  and  endoga- 
mous  marriage.  These,  considered  first  as  affecting  the 
maintenance  of  the  race  in  number  and  quality,  have  also 
to  be  considered  as  affecting  the  condition  of  adults.  More- 
over, beyond  observing  how  the  several  forms  of  the  sexual 
relations  modify  family-life,  they  have  to  be  treated  in  con- 
nexion with  public  life ;  on  which  they  act  and  which  reacts 
on  them.  And  then,  after  the  sexual  relations,  there  have 
to  be  similarly  dealt  with  the  parental  and  filial  relations. 

Sociology  has  next  to  describe  and  explain  the  rise  and 
development  of  that  political  organization  which  in  several 
ways  regulates  affairs — which  combines  the  actions  of  in- 
dividuals for  purposes  of  tribal  or  national  offence  and  de- 
fence ;  and  which  restrains  them  in  certain  of  their  dealings 
with  one  another,  as  also  in  certain  of  their  dealings  with 
themselves.  It  has  to  trace  the  relations  of  this  co-ordinat- 
ing and  controlling  apparatus,  to  the  area  occupied,  to  the 
amount  and  distribution  of  population,  to  the  means  of  com- 
munication. It  has  to  show  the  differences  of  form  which 
this  agency  presents  in  the  different  social  types,  nomadic 
and  settled,  militant  and  industrial.  It  has  to  describe  the 
changing  relations  between  this  regulative  structure  which 
is  unproductive,  and  those  structures  which  carry  on  produc- 
tion. It  has  also  to  set  forth  the  connexions  between,  and 
reciprocal  influences  of,  the  institutions  carrying  on  civil 
government,  and  the  other  governmental  institutions  simul- 
taneously developing — the  ecclesiastical  and  the  ceremonial. 
And  then  it  has  to  take  account  of  those  modifications  which 
persistent  political  restraints  are  ever  working  in  the  charac- 
ters of  the  social  units,  as  well  as  the  modifications  worked 
by  the  reactions  of  these  changed  characters  on  the  political 
organization. 

There  has  to  be  similarly  described  the  evolution  of  the 
ecclesiastical  structures  and  functions.  Commencing  with 


THE  SCOPE  OP  SOCIOLOGY.  439 

these  as  scarcely  distinguished  from  the  political  structures 
and  functions,  their  divergent  developments  must  be  traced. 
How  the  share  of  ecclesiastical  agencies  in  political  actions 
becomes  gradually  less ;  how,  reciprocally,  political  agencies 
play  a  decreasing  part  in  ecclesiastical  actions;  are  phe- 
nomena to  be  set  forth.  How  the  internal  organization  of 
the  priesthood,  differentiating  and  integrating  as  the  society 
grows,  stands  related  in  type  to  the  co-existing  organizations, 
political  and  other;  and  how  changes  of  structure  in  it  are 
connected  with  changes  of  structure  in  them;  are  also  sub- 
jects to  be  dealt  with.  Further,  there  has  to  be  shown  the 
progressive  divergence  between  the  set  of  rules  framed  into 
civil  law,  and  the  set  of  rules  which  the  ecclesiastical  organi- 
zation enforces;  and  in  this  second  set  of  rules  there  has  to 
be  traced  the  divergence  between  those  which  become  a  code 
of  religious  ceremonial  and  those  which  become  a  code  of 
ethical  precepts.  Once  more,  the  science  has  to  note  how  the 
ecclesiastical  agency  in  its  structure,  functions,  laws,  and 
creed,  stands  related  to  the  character  of  the  people;  and 
how  the  actions  and  reactions  of  the  two  mutually  modify 
them. 

The  system  of  restraints  whereby  the  minor  actions  of 
citizens  are  regulated,  has  also  to  be  dealt  with.  Earlier 
than  the  political  and  ecclesiastical  controls  is  the  control 
embodied  in  ceremonial  observances;  which,  beginning 
with  propitiations  that  initiate  acts  of  class-subordination, 
grow  into  rules  of  intercourse  between  man  and  man.  The 
mutilations  which  mark  conquest  and  become  badges  of 
servitude ;  the  obeisances  which  are  originally  signs  of  sub- 
mission made  by  the  conquered ;  the  titles  which  are  words 
directly  or  metaphorically  attributing  mastery  over  those 
who  utter  them;  the  salutations  which  are  also  the  flatter- 
ing professions  of  subjection  and  implied  inferiority — these, 
and  some  others,  have  to  be  traced  in  their  genesis  and  de- 
velopment. The  growth  of  the  structure  which  maintains 
observances;  the  accumulation,  complication,  and  increas- 


4-4:0  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ing  definition  of  observances;  and  the  resulting  code  of 
bye-laws  of  conduct,  have  to  be  severally  delineated.  These 
regulative  arrangements,  too,  must  be  considered  in  their 
relations  to  co-existing  regulative  arrangements;  with  which 
they  all  along  maintain  a  congruity  in  respect  of  coercive- 
ness.  And  the  reciprocal  influences  exercised  by  them  on 
men's  natures,  and  by  men's  natures  on  them,  need  setting 
forth. 

Co-ordinating  structures  and  functions  having  been 
treated,  there  have  to  be  treated  the  structures  and  func- 
tions co-ordinated.  The  regulative  and  the  operative  are 
the  two  most  generally  contrasted  divisions  of  every  society ; 
and  the  inquiries  of  highest  importance  concern  the  rela- 
tions between  them.  The  stages  through  which  the  indus- 
trial part  passes,  from  its  original  union  with  the  govern- 
mental part  to  its  ultimate  separateness,  have  to  be  studied. 
An  allied  subject  of  study  is  the  growth  of  those  regulative 
structures  which  the  industrial  part  develops  within  itself. 
The  producing  activities  of  its  units  have  to  be  directed ;  and 
the  various  forms  of  the  directive  apparatus  have  to  be  dealt 
with — the  kinds  of  government  under  which  separate  groups 
of  workers  act ;  the  kinds  of  government  under  which  work- 
ers in  the  same  business  and  of  the  same  class  are  combined 
(eventually  differentiating  into  guilds  and  into  unions); 
and  the  kind  of  government  which  keeps  in  balance  the 
activities  of  the  various  industrial  structures.  The  relations 
between  the  types  of  these  industrial  governments  and  the 
types  of  the  co-existing  political  and  ecclesiastical  govern- 
ments, have  to  be  considered  at  each  successive  stage;  as 
have  also  the  relations  between  each  type  and  the  natures 
of  the  citizens:  there  being  here,  too,  a  reciprocity  of  influ- 
ences. After  the  regulative  part  of  the  industrial 
organization  comes  the  operative  part;  also  presenting  its 
successive  stages  of  evolution.  The  separation  of  the  dis- 
tributive system  from  the  productive  system  having  been 
first  traced,  there  has  to  be  traced  the  growing  division  of 


THE  SCOPE  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

labour  within  each — the  rise  of  grades  and  kinds  of  distribu- 
tors as  well  as  grades  and  kinds  of  producers.  And  then 
there  have  to  be  added  the  effects  which  the  developing  and 
differentiating  industries  produce  on  one  another — the  ad- 
vances of  the  industrial  arts  themselves,  caused  by  mutual 
help. 

These  developments  of  the  structures  and  functions 
which  make  up  the  organization  and  life  of  each  society, 
having  been  followed  out,  we  have  then  to  follow  out  certain 
associated  developments  which  aid,  and  are  aided  by,  social 
evolution — the  developments  of  language,  knowledge,  mor- 
als, aesthetics.  Linguistic  progress  has  to  be  con- 
sidered first  as  displayed  in  language  itself,  while  passing 
from  a  relatively  incoherent,  indefinite,  homogeneous  state, 
to  states  that  are  successively  more  coherent,  definite,  and 
heterogeneous.  We  have  to  note  how  increasing  social  com- 
plexity conduces  to  increasing  complexity  of  language ;  and 
how,  as  a  society  becomes  settled,  its  language  acquires  per- 
manence. The  connexion  between  the  developments  of 
words  and  sentences  and  the  correlative  developments  of 
thought  which  they  aid,  and  which  are  aided  by  them,  has 
to  be  observed:  the  reciprocity  being  traced  in  the  increas- 
ing multiplicity,  variety,  exactness,  which  each  helps  the 
other  to  gain.  Progress  in  intelligence,  thus  asso- 
ciated with  progress  in  language,  has  also  to  be  treated  as 
accompanying  social  progress;  which,  while  furthering  it, 
is  furthered  by  it.  From  experiences  which  accumulate, 
come  comparisons  leading  to  generalizations  of  simple  kinds. 
Gradually  the  ideas  of  uniformity,  order,  and  cause,  becom- 
ing nascent,  gain  clearness  with  each  fresh  truth  established. 
And  while  there  has  to  be  noted  the  connexion  between  each 
phase  of  science  and  the  concomitant  phase  of  social  life, 
there  have  also  to  be  noted  the  stages  through  which,  within 
the  body  of  science  itself,  there  is  an  advance  from  a  few, 
simple,  incoherent  truths,  to  a  number  of  specialized  sciences 
forming  an  aggregate  of  truths  that  are  multitudinous, 


442  THE  DATA  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

varied,  exact,  coherent.  The  emotional  modifica- 

tions which  accompany  social  modifications,  both  as  causes 
and  as  consequences,  also  demand  separate  attention.  Be- 
sides observing  the  interactions  of  the  social  state  and  the 
moral  state,  we  have  to  observe  the  associated  modifications 
of  those  moral  codes  in  which  moral  feelings  get  their  intel- 
lectual expression.  The  kind  of  behaviour  which  each  kind 
of  regime  necessitates,  finds  for  itself  a  justification  which 
acquires  an  ethical  character;  and  hence  systems  of  ethics 
must  be  dealt  with  in  their  social  dependences.  Then 

come  the  groups  of  phenomena  we  call  aesthetic;  which,  as 
exhibited  in  art-products  and  in  the  correlative  sentiments, 
have  to  be  studied  in  their  respective  evolutions  internally 
considered,  and  in  the  relations  of  those  evolutions  to  ac- 
companying social  phenomena.  Diverging  as  they  do  from 
a  common  root,  architecture,  sculpture,  painting,  together 
with  dancing,  music,  and  poetry,  have  to  be  severally  treated 
as  connected  with  the  political  and  ecclesiastical  stages,  with 
the  co-existing  phases  of  moral  sentiment,  and  with  the  de- 
grees of  intellectual  advance. 

Finally  we  have  to  consider  the  inter-dependence  of 
structures,  and  functions,  and  products,  taken  in  their  to- 
tality. Among  these  many  groups  of  phenomena  there  is  a 
concensus;  and  the  highest  achievement  in  Sociology  is 
so  to  grasp  the  vast  heterogeneous  aggregate,  as  to  see  how 
the  character  of  each  group  at  each  stage  is  determined 
partly  by  its  own  antecedents  and  partly  by  the  past  and 
present  actions  of  the  rest  upon  it. 

§  211.  But  now  before  trying  to  explain  these  most  in- 
volved phenomena,  we  must  learn  by  inspection  the  rela- 
tions of  co-existence  and  sequence  in  which  they  stand  to 
one  another.  By  comparing  societies  of  different  kinds, 
and  societies  in  different  stages,  we  must  ascertain  what  traits 
of  size,  structure,  function,  etc.,  are  associated.  In  other 


THE  SCOPE  OF  SOCIOLOGY.  443 

words,  before  deductive  interpretation  of  the  general  truths, 
there  must  come  inductive  establishment  of  them. 

Here,  then,  ending  preliminaries,  let  us  examine  the 
facts  of  Sociology,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  into  what  em- 
pirical generalizations  they  may  be  arranged. 


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